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imaginatorcreates · 7 months

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Vampire AU

12 October 2023 — 13 October 2023

Summary: Turning is never an easy process. Thankfully, turning with someone you know and care(?) about is...better? Hopefully.

Word Count: ~2.3k words

TW: Lots of talk about blood. This is a vampire AU.

Author’s Notes: More self-indulgence? This time with vampires for spooky month? Uh, YES. Of course. Listen, reading "The Locked Tomb" series probably influenced how much blood and description of the body I used here. Also, biology. Will also be on my AO3 under Ima’s Anthology of Originals (https://archiveofourown.org/works/50083228)

It’s said that a vampire could always smell when someone is injured because of the blood that leaks from one’s vessels. It was easier with external bleeding, but wherever blood flows where it’s not supposed to, inside or outside the meat, a vampire was sure to find its source.

And with it, its next meal. Or victim.

So whenever one went out to hunt vampires, or most any other monster of that matter, one had to remember to be healthy and uninjured. One couldn’t count on a monster not sniffing out one’s bruise.

One also had to remember to bring along their precious metals with their weapons and defenses. Salt. Iron. Silver. A little gold.

One had to keep their wits up, keep their eyes peeled and senses sharp. When the monsters came out in the dark, it was their field. They could sense the living and weak-willed in many more ways than the latter could sense them.

Keep one’s lantern lit.

Travel in groups.

Pray to whatever gods you wish.

Strike and don’t hesitate.

------

“You’ve picked at your fingers again Jazz,” Akemi said as she dropped from the tree branch she was seated on and landed on the ground. She landed with the grace of someone who had been doing something along these lines for several decades, yet her face was one of youth. She fixed her short black hair and sighed. Her green eyes pierced through the darkness as she slowly slinked up from her crouched position and looked down at the being who waited for her.

Jazz had tan skin that was spotted with a few freckles, and black hair that was the desire of fluffiness. They were seated on a rotting yet stable log, and at the mention of their fingers, they moved their hands apart from each other. They looked up and their light brown eyes met Akemi’s with a slightly annoyed gaze. “I know,” they mumbled as they turned their attention back to their fingers and picked off a piece of dried skin before flicking it into the grass.

Akemi watched with fascination as blood started to well up in between the skin and the fingernail, then gave a small sigh of disappointment as Jazz sucked on the tiny wound. “I could’ve had that,” she pouted.

“I won’t let you,” Jazz retorted, their words coming out a little muddled as they continued to suck on their bleeding finger for a little longer. “This little amount isn’t worthy enough for you.”

“That’s what many other mortals have said, and where are they now?” Akemi curled some of her fingers and raised a hand to Jazz's forehead. “BANG! Dead.”

“You’re not a killer,” Jazz said as they wiped their finger on their pants.

“And that’s what your kind says when they fall for my kind,” Akemi pointed out. “It usually doesn’t end well.” Despite the small cut on Jazz’s hand having already clotted up, she could still smell hints of it, and with it the different hormones that came with it.

Jazz stood up and casually flexed the extra two inches of height that they had over her. “And who said that I'm doing this because I fell for you?”

Akemi ran her tongue over her quickly elongating canines and grinned. “Your blood doesn’t lie. Quite unlike your beautiful voice.”

The blood that rushed up to Jazz’s face only confirmed a few of Akemi’s thoughts. “I didn’t fall for you. Not traditionally nor romantically, at least.”

“Uh-huh, right,” Akemi giggled. “You do know that being turned is a permanent thing, right?” She leaned in a little, her hands clasped behind her back. “Your mortal life will be forfeit.”

“So be it.”

The vampire chuckled to herself and leaned back. “You’re foolish. I find that interesting.”

The human rolled their eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“No no! Truly. I find you interesting.” Akemi circled Jazz, her steps light and calculated. Even through unbroken skin, though a bit more difficult, she could smell their blood. She could feel it in her sinuses. How blood coursed through Jazz’s veins and arteries, and how it pooled in their capillaries. She could faintly hear how lively their heart beat, how they faintly feared for their life, yet their feet stayed planted to the ground and their resolve held.

She grinned. “You’re scared.”

There! Their heart beat a little faster again!

“Who isn’t? I’m not supposed to be here, associating myself with you,” Jazz said. They licked their lips as they added, “Right now, I’m at risk of drawing hunters to you.”

“Yet you came with no defenses and no signals, with only a lantern whose flame is dying,” Akemi countered. “If anything, I’d be drawing monsters to you.”

“But you wouldn’t,” Jazz said, and those words tore through the vampire. “You wouldn’t because you’ve grown to care for me.”

Oh, if her heart still beat as animatedly as the living, she would blush! She slowed her pacing around the human and she laughed. “That, I do! You’re a friend, and I like you.” She spun around in her spot quickly enough for her long skirt to flare out a little. “You’re such a nice being to talk to. You’re also kinda cute and fragile.”

Jazz blushed again. “I’m not!”

“Not cute? Or not fragile?”

“Not fragile,” they huffed. “I know. We die and are less resistant to major traumas, but we’re also resilient.” They stepped closer to her and leaned in a little until their faces were inches apart. “I’m aware of that. But still, I wish to be turned,” they whispered.

Akemi’s stomach flipped for a second, but she attributed that to needing a nice meal eventually. She swallowed. “No turning back.”

“I know.”

“I’m assuming you’ve said your final goodbyes to any loved ones?”

“I have.”

Akemi nodded. “Okay then! Here’s how the turning process goes.” She held up some fingers as she stated the steps. “First, I drink a little bit of your blood. Then, I inject you with a special venom that’ll start to turn you. Of course, we can’t forget the last step, which is you drinking a bit of my blood in return.”

Jazz inhaled sharply. “Why do I need to drink your blood too? Don’t you just choose to turn others when you drink and inject the venom?”

Akemi shrugged. “I don’t question it. I just know that’s how it happens.”

Jazz narrowed their eyes at her. “How long have you been a vampire for?”

“Oh, give or take about 30, maybe 40 years. You’re also my first turning,” she said as she cracked her back with a loud pop! “Ah, that’s better!”

“I’m what? And you’re — ! You’re so young!”

“Mm-hmm, what else is new?” Akemi held out her hand. “Up is up, down is down, eternal youth in exchange for a permanent liquid diet.” She clapped her hands together and held out her hand again. “ Now! I need one of your hands or arm, either one works.”

Jazz gingerly pointed to their neck. “Uh, why not — ?”

“That’s so cliche!” Akemi dismissively waved the offer away. “I just need your blood. I don’t care where it comes from. Unless it’s menstrual blood, then I won’t take that one for reasons.”

Jazz cleared their throat and looked away. “Noted.” They removed their jacket and held out an arm. “Will it hurt?”

Yes.

“It might,” Akemi said as she took their arm in her hands and gently traced a few of the arteries and veins she could feel and smell lurking just below the skin and fat. Her touch elicited goosebumps on Jazz’s skin. “But you’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you.” She gently tapped a spot on the inside of Jazz’s elbow and looked at them. “Do you prefer your upper or lower arm to be bitten?”

“Upper, I guess?” Jazz slowly sat down on the log again and pulled Akemi down with them.

“Got it.” Akemi moved her fingers up Jazz’s arm until she found a good spot with their cephalic vein. Arteries had more flavorful blood, but veins were less messy. She opened her mouth and sharply bit down. She heard Jazz sharply inhale and felt them wince. Her canines easily pierced through the layers of skin and fat before piercing through the vein. The anticoagulant in her saliva worked its magic and the blood flowed freely. She drank only enough blood to satisfy any itching hunger she felt before she bit down a little harder to inject the venom.

She felt Jazz stiffen under her grasp. They let out a breathy exhale and groaned. “My head…”

Akemi squeezed their arm as she let the venom flow for a little longer before she released her bite. “Shh, shh. It’s okay,” she whispered. “I said it might hurt.”

“But not like this!” Jazz hissed through clenched teeth. They leaned against her and took shallow breaths through their mouth. “My head hurts…”

Akemi didn’t know how to respond. Of course their head would hurt. Her own head had hurt when she turned, as well as every other part of her body as the vampire venom had worked its way through her system and changed her. Her senses sharpened quicker than her brain and her head hadn’t known how to process that. Her cells had morphed to require blood, more iron, more red. Forgotten was the need for glucose, only warm blood. She had gained a few extra things too, something monstrous, something more.

She started to shed her human disguise. Her black hair (oh, how she sometimes missed when her hair was that color permanently) turned purple and blue. Her green eyes seemed to shine. Her pierced ears elongated and a short pair of horns sprouted from her skull again. She whipped out her thin tail and wrapped it around Jazz’s waist. Jazz looked a little pale as their chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Akemi,” they hissed, “third step. Please, it hurts.”

She brushed some of their hair away from their sweaty forehead and looked at their eyes. Their pupils were starting to narrow into slits, a surefire sign that the venom was working. She hummed. “Go ahead.” She rolled up one of her sleeves and offered her arm to them. “Just watch for — ”

Her warning came too late as Jazz animalistically grabbed her arm and bit down.

Akemi hissed as canines that weren’t fully sharpened punctured her skin. Where they aimed was indiscriminate as both vein and artery were flooded with the strong anticoagulant that came with turning. It coaxed the slow-running blood up from their snail’s pace and ordered it to run. Dark venous blood slowly ran down her arm while bright arterial blood spurted with each slow heartbeat. Jazz’s slit pupils widened as blood got into their system and they let out a satisfied noise from the back of their throat as they drank.

The thing about blood was that it went everywhere and that it stained. Even when it was mostly Jazz’s shirt that was the victim, some drops still landed on Akemi’s skirt. She thanked herself for wearing dark colors.

She watched as Jazz’s black hair started to change shades to a light gray. Their ears elongated even more than her own and longer horns broke through their skull. She giggled as she witnessed this, the sensation of blood being drained from her arm fading as excitement replaced it. “Oh, it’s working!”

At the sound of her voice, Jazz’s hunger-filled frenzy slowed. Their breathing evened out and they slowly released their bite from her arm. As soon as this happened, Akemi’s healing factor kicked in. It knitted the puncture wounds shut and denatured the anticoagulant proteins until her blood once again slowed to a snail’s pace.

Akemi cupped Jazz’s face in her hands and turned it towards her own. She gasped softly as bright orange eyes stared back at her. Even when their chin was red with blood and their lips were parted with the lingering sensations of turning, she only gazed at their eyes. “Beautiful,” she breathed. “You’re beautiful.”

She felt Jazz’s blood slowly rise to their cheeks beneath her hands. Aw, they were blushing. They licked their lips and their nose crinkled at the metallic taste. “Ugh, that tastes awful.”

Akemi laughed and removed her hands from their face. “Darling, you can’t call your only food source awful now! You’ll starve.”

Jazz chuckled and pulled the collar of their shirt up in an attempt to wipe their mouth and chin. The initial bite that Akemi left on their upper arm was already starting to heal. “Oh, that was awful. Worst pain I’ve felt. Even now, my senses are against me, ugh. Is this how you always feel?” They leaned over and took a few deep breaths before they glanced at Akemi and murmured, “But your blood wasn’t too bad.”

“Hmm? Can you repeat that?” Akemi teased. “I didn’t quite hear you!”

Jazz snorted and lightly hit her upper arm. “Liar, you did! You’ve had enhanced senses for longer than me, so I know that you heard me!”

Akemi unwrapped her tail from around their waist. “Okay, but you didn’t know about my other form until now.”

Jazz straightened their back as they felt this. “You have a tail? And horns?” They reached up to their head and let out a noise of surprise. “I have horns?”

“Yep! And so much more to explore! Come, come!” Akemi grabbed their wrists and pulled them up, knocking over the lantern Jazz brought in the process. The flame went out and the lantern went unnoticed as the two vampires ran away into the night, disappearing into the forest as their blood slowed but their emotions stayed high.

#Ima Writes #original writing #writing #my writing #oc #queer #lgbtq+#queerplatonic #vampire #tw: blood

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raininyourblackeyes · 2 years

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There is this one city in my country. Many stories of that city have been told. All of them start with “Once upon a time, a city froze over. And it was summer.”

I guess this story starts like that too. I hope I will find the time on 11th July, the anniversary of Srebrenica genocide, to properly write about the events or at least share something so that maybe someone finds out about this gruesome event. Not because I lost a grandfather and cousins. But because it happened, in Europe, and it is considered the biggest massacre in Europe since World War Two, and because I fear if it still holds that horrible chilling title.

Warning: very long post ahead that I will not put under a cut. A genocide on my people does not go under a cut.

So here is a story. Today’s date is 9th July. On 9th July 1995, people of Srebrenica and nearby villages sought shelter in UN bases as it was a UN protected zone, because the Serb forces were less than a kilometre away from the city and there were rumours of air raids on their bases that night. There were no raids, UN did nothing. At least they stayed consistent, they stayed unhelpful.

Today is 9th July 2022, 27 years later and it is Eid. I went to visit this woman who was technically my nanny. She practically raised me, and knowing I stayed home alone because of the exam yesterday she invited me to have Eid lunch with her family. I tell her my cousin’s son will be going to high school in fall. She looks at me shocked. “Already?”

That is where I know what she will ask next. She will ask about that boy’s grandmother.

One heartbeat. Second. Then-

“They still never found your aunt’s sons?”

“No.”

She asks that every time I come over.

“Twenty seven years later and not a single bone.”

She tells me she can’t imagine the pain and the grief my aunt feels every day.

I know little about those two cousins. I know their names, and that the younger one was underage. I know there are two spaces saved for them next to their father’s grave in Potočari.

“They found your grandfather in Kravice. Do you know where did they find their father?”

I didn’t know my grandfather was found in Kravice mass grave. They don’t talk about it at home. I also don’t know where they found my aunt’s husband. I just know that she doesn’t wonder what would have happened if her two sons stayed with her in the “UN protected zone”. No one who stayed there stayed alive. Those who left for the forest, a bloody, long path of hope and agony – some of them came back. Her two older sons, her husband, and her father did not. Her youngest brother did.

So before I tell you what else I know and don’t know about people who didn’t come back and that fit into my father’s life, and by proxy mine, here are some “fun” facts. Between 11th and 22nd July 1995 the Serb forces led by general Ratko Mladić killed 8372 people around Srebrenica. Mostly men. Some women too. But women were mostly raped. Girls too; I guess age doesn’t matter because everything is allowed in the war, isn’t it. The youngest victim was a baby so young her mother didn’t even have a chance to give her a name. She would be turning 27 in two days. All killed were civilians. Some sought shelter in the UN bases, some tried their luck through forests, hoping to make it to Tuzla, a land under ‘our’ control. For the enemy soldiers, it was a game of hunting through a forest. It’s been 27 years, there are politicians in the neighbouring and my country still denying the genocide. If it weren’t a genocide, they would not have buried the victims in mass graves, then dug them up again and moved to secondary, then tertiary graves. They knew it was genocide, they filmed themselves celebrating and marching and killing, and they knew they had to hide it, and the bodies as best as they could. It is 9th July 2022 today, and the road from Bratunac to Potočari is lined with portraits of those murderous monsters in yet another provocation. Those aren’t even genocide deniers, those are genocide glorifiers who would do it again in a heartbeat. You can read more about it, I will most likely post about it on the anniversary, or at least share some links. But here is the story of people whose ghosts are in my life.

First, my grandfather. Here is what I don’t know: I have never seen his picture. Their house was burned. I only know I am the only one in the extended family that got his green eyes. Here is what I know: my aunt didn’t believe they found him based on bones they told them they found. She could not recognize a man by bare bones. She finally realized it was her “čiki” when she saw the belt she put on him just before he left for the forests. My dad says he knows they killed him on the 13th, says he heard him calling his name in his sleep and then he saw his face and then he woke up thinking “They killed him.” They did. One of my earliest memories is standing under a tree, my mom cradling my baby brother. I remember it was hot and that so so many people were crying. And I remember the graves, all the same. And I remember my dad, kneeling in front of a grave where they just buried a man who was my grandfather. I remember the sleeves of his white shirt lined with mud and his hands dug into the dirt and I remember him sobbing. That was the only time I’ve ever seen my father cry. I also know that a few years ago, they called again. They found some more bones, somewhere else in some other mass grave. I also know that during school trips to Potočari Memorial Centre, kids usually take a picture of names of people who shared their surname. It is easy to find someone with the same surname when over 8000 people were killed. For my friends though, there is this game – find my surname. There are several rows of men with that surname. Find my grandfather’s name. There are several man with his name. What was his father’s name? The same as my father’s. Oh, there he is. Then the second part of the game is to find the grave. They all look the same, and there are more each year so you can only approximately know where it is. We find it, I kneel and greet him. My friends and I recite the usual prayers. Other kids watch with confusion, teachers watch with pity. I love my friends.

There is my uncle, my father’s younger brother. He came back. His son was born in 1991, his daughter in 1994. She wasn’t even a year old, yet. She doesn’t remember the reunion. Her mother does. She does not talk about it. They say my uncle was the most cheerful man in their village. He is still cheerful, but there are bloody ghosts around him and sometimes he looks somewhere into the distance and I wonder does he see through the wall. Does he see a friend lost in that forest right there? When did he get separated from his father? He does not talk about it. He just believes that all of ‘Them’ are evil. All. And all ‘Ours’ are good. All. His daughter grew into one of our country’s most famous young poets. Her words are brutal, more often about war than not. She was born with the war, she grew up surrounded by the suffocating ghosts of war. My uncle is such a good man.

My poet cousin’s roommate was born after the massacre, she was born after her father did not return. Her mother named her after that man. She also does not have a picture of her father. Just a female version of his name, and his surname. Her mother doesn’t talk about him. Her roommate is now married, they don’t talk anymore. They drifted apart during university.

A while ago, I went to Potočari with my father. He stopped next to a grave and stayed silent. The grave was louder. “That boy shared desk with me in first grade.” They knew each other when they were six. “He had such a neat handwriting.” A nice thing to remember him by. “I didn’t know they found him.” There was more silence. I thank God that my father was in the army, somewhere else in the country, flying his helicopter. Later, I will learn that not a single man from my dad’s friend’s family came back. Only women survived. One of them bore a son after. She was not married.

My aunt married early. She had a husband, and three sons. The youngest stayed with her. She dressed him in a girl’s clothes, praying none of the soldiers decide to lift up the skirts and lower their pants. That cousin is a lawyer and his son will be going to high school in a few months. The son is named after the oldest brother. It has been 27 years, not a single bone has been found. Next to the father’s grave are two empty spaces. Waiting for my cousins; I don’t know anything about them except for their names. Talking about them hurts too much. Maybe once, if, they find them. My aunt is the most bad-ass of all her siblings.

Last year, when we were visiting my aunt, it was also 9th July. There was so much traffic on that tiny village road that day. Srebrenica Peace March was arriving, and locals wanted to welcome them. My dad showed a random nearly invisible road through the window of our car. “They are going to a playground down that road. They killed around 3000 men there.” I know that playground, but I don’t tell him that. My friend’s uncle was killed there. He was younger than me now.

11th July 2021, last year, I remember sitting up curled on a sofa, watching my favourite figure skater’s performance and feeling so bad. How do I dare get excited over this one man screaming in his show exhibition program? My dad comes back from the funeral. Aunt makes coffee. The house is full. They laugh about something. I replay the program.

It will be 27 years in two days. The youngest boy to be buried was 16. They will also bury a father and a son. All of them were murdered because they were Muslim.

Every 11th July, it rains at some point of the day. The sky cries for the innocents, they say. Each year there are more graves added, more families happy that they have a grave now at least. And there is still a long long way to go before there are 8372 graves in Potočari. And even a longer way before all those who committed the genocide face justice.

Jednom davno, zamrznuo se jedan grad. A bilo je ljeto.

#tw genocide #tw rape #srebrenica genocide #bosnia and herzegovina

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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First things First | Jack Kline & Peter Parker

Summary; Peter sees his ex back in town. Last time she was with her brothers, but this time, she has another companion. His name is Jack Kline, and he is her current boyfriend.

Warnings; some angst, jealousy, a bit of trash talk, smidge of violence, one swear word

“You’re back then.” Peter noticed, following you as you walked through the school halls, your head down as you attempted to ignore him. But however, you knew that you couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there forever, and so you softly sighed.

Last time, you hadn’t been in town too long, only a few weeks, cases were sprouting up left right and centre in Queens, and that was enough time for a relationship to briefly brew between the pair of you.

However, when the entourage of hunts came to an end, it had only been fair to cut sweet Peter loose, you hadn’t planned to return in any soon time. And here you were, a year in a half later, back in his hometown.

“You’re eyes are quite inquisitive, Parker, or do you need to ask me to put rock salt on my skin to prove that I’m not a ghost?” You barked back, which earnt yourself a confused frown.

“What?” He asked in reply, confused by your wording.

“Never mind, you wouldn’t get it.” You dismissed, having already had the intel and advice from your brothers that two different worlds didn’t mix.

Peter was but a boy, a smart one, but for all that you were aware, he lived a mundane life. He was bullied at school, but he had a couple of friends, Ned and MJ.

MJ. She had liked Peter before you had disappeared in the impala, it wouldn’t be a surprise if the pair were together now. He had wanted to forget you, for causing him so much pain, he deserved to move on, as you had.

“What I got was that you told me you loved me, and then you went with the wind, and didn’t look back, not once.” He bit back, his statement making your body feel heavy.

It was guilt, a familiar feeling for a hunter. It often came when a life was lost by the life of a monster, and this time, it had been the same. You had taken away the happiness from your own life, you were the beast that ripped out someone’s heart.

“I did, but that doesn’t matter anymore Pete, I’m in love with somebody else. There’s nothing that I am entailed from hiding from him, no secrets, I can be myself with him.” You pursed your lips, relieved that you had got that off your chest.

“You never had to have secrets! Your family business is what dragged us down in the first place, you feel the need to follow your brothers around the world, and for what? To end up alone and unloved?”

“I love her.” Jack entered the hallway, he had been at the front office, asking about the plumbing, he said he heard a noise. It was what the victim had said before he died, and so the spawn of Lucifer was now questioning it.

Sam and Dean were downtown, at some bar, it had been where the victim had been, with a fake id, before his body had been found in the school bathroom. This left the group of you spread out, and operating around the city, wanting to find the creature that had ended the boy’s life.

Jack’s voice had been friendly, as though he were informing Peter of your relationship status. Neither of them knew each other, so he found no harm in letting the public know of your intimate bond.

The nephilim was most often than not a free speaker, he found no foul in letting his mouth run. He was so innocent, so pure, and perfect, you were pleased that you hadn’t tainted him nor gained his spite like you had with Peter.

“Jack, this is Peter. I met him last time I was around here. Peter, this is Jack, my boyfriend.” It was an awkward introduction, you held your hands together, watching as Jack held out his hand for your ex to shake.

Peter hesitantly shook Jack’s hand, lightly glaring at the boy. “It’s nice to meet a friend of y/n’s, not many that she has are her age.”

“Thanks for that Jack.” You laughed lightly, holding sweetly onto his arm, as to ensure him that he had done nothing wrong.

“We’re not friends.” Peter corrected him, squinting at you. “She doesn’t like the idea of any relationship with me, so she can pass on friendship.” He gave you one last look, before he walked away.

“Hi.” Jack saw your ‘friend’ in the hall, whilst you were questioning some other students. Peter reluctantly turned, going face to face with your boyfriend and partner in justifying crime.

“Hey.” His head briefly leant back, curious as to why the new boy was speaking to him. “Jack, right?”

“Yes, that is my name.” Jack nodded with a smile, the adorable gap in his teeth presenting itself clearly. “Have you felt any cold spots here recently, or smelt sulphur by any change?”

His question made Peter frown, he gulped and thought before he decided to answer. “I don’t know why your going around asking questions, but I also do not know why you’re dating y/n. She’ll break your heart, it’s what she does.”

“The two of you don’t sound like very good friends.” He speculated, tilting his head like a puppy dog, his bright eyes filled with curiosity.

“We weren’t just friends Jack, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. Maybe there was a reason for that, you should ask her.” Peter crossed his arms, taking note of how he seemed to have angered the other boy.

The son of Lucifer was inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils, he was attempting to remain calm. But he couldn’t, his eyes seared with their golden pigment, and upon witnessing, Peter’s eyes widened and he was fast to sling webbing towards the mutant.

But it had no affect, not as Jack’s mouth opened, and a scream on another wavelength , which happened to throw the spider man backwards into the row of lockers. This was not normal, and Peter worried for the reason that you had the company of such a creature.

“What the hell are you?” Peter asked, wanting an answer so he could figure out a way to defeat him.

“I’m someone that loves y/n very much. Don’t worry, we won’t be in town much longer.” And with that, the strange and peculiar being walked away, leaving Peter stunned. For once, he wasn’t sure how he would improvise.

“You know the boy’s toilets are for guys, right?” Peter asked later in the day, as he watched you, whom was drenched in water, leave said restroom.

“I am more than aware, thankyou for that reminder Peter.” Each footstep dripped water upon the floor. That ghost had been a bitch to send off, but to your relief, you had done so.

“What are you doing here, really?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m going to be leaving tonight, I’ll be all out of your hair.” You spoke, trying to remain calm with your previous partner. “Have you seen Jack?”

“About that...” he noticed how you furrowed your brow with his words, and realised it would be better to get straight to the point. “He’s not normal, there’s something different about him. He’s dangerous.”

“I guess you witnessed something... supernatural?” He slowly nodded his head, thinking about how it could be considered as such. “Jack, he’s a nephilim, half angel, half human. That’s why I can’t stick around, my life is messy, and I have a duty to save people, you understand that, right?”

“Why would I understand that?” He hesitated, his voice stepping over his words in a worried stutter. “Angels?!” He repeated.

“Yeah, not every takes lightly to the news, and a bit of information; the majority are dicks.” You laughed, shoving your hands in your soggy pockets. “You really think I didn’t have a clue that I was dating a spiderman? I investigate abnormal occurrences for a living, it was quite easy to notice something was different about you.”

“So you look into things like cold spots and sulphur smells?” He remembered that was what Jack had mentioned earlier. Perhaps the possibility of angels wasn’t half crazy, the universe was expanding. It was certainly out there, but so was a talking, moving tree that enjoyed digital games and was experiencing puberty.

“Exactly.” You smiled, looking into his deep brown eyes, and finding some kind of peace between the pair of you.

“I think I saw Jack in the library.” He scratched the back of his neck, deciding to be a bigger person and give into the planet’s order.

“Thanks, see ya around Parker.” That expression you gave him shouldn’t have made him feel so giddy, he knew that this was another goodbye you were sending him. But the relief on your faces was beautiful.

You walked momentarily backwards, and he raised his hand in a signalled send off. He hoped that one day, he would see you again, maybe even with Blade as he killed vampires. Who knew?

One thing he was aware of was that you were happy with Jack, and that the two of you shared a life. You had an even amount of knowledge between you, and as much as Peter hated to admit it, you weren’t bound to leave the nephilim any time soon.

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akyrin · 3 years

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SBI Fic Recs

You'll be Okay Kiddo by StayGoldFics Gen/Ongoing/43k - Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute Technoblade and Wilbur, On the run, Homeless Technoblade, Wilbur and Tommy

Summary: After Running away two years ago from yet another crappy home Wilbur, Techno and Tommy find themselves on the streets with no where to go. But hey, at least they have each other.

^ Phil finds a bunch of mute, on-the-run-from-the-foster-system-AND-the-police children in his shed and decides to adopt them. Wilbur, Techno and Tommy trust exactly none of it but Phil keeps proving himself. Basically Phil accepting and being unconditionally loving to three boys who have known nothing but pain for a long time. I love Phil's character in this. He never demands answers from any of them, just offers them a home unconditionally, even with the threat of police. And the boys want nothing more than to accept his kindness and safety but they're just too scared to do so.

One Man's Trash by SilverWing15 T/Ongoing/14k - Superheroes AU, SBI as Villains (they are soft for Tommy though), Hurt/Comfort, Homeless Tommy

Summary: The kid is glaring down at him and eating a partially moldy apple like he’s daring Wilbur to come fight him for it.

“What the fuck?” Wilbur says.

The kid takes a huge chunk out of the apple and definitely doesn't chew it enough before he swallows.

“You got a fucking problem, asshole?”

“I mean...kind of?” Wilbur says.

“There’s a child eating literal garbage in front of me so I feel like that’s a bit concerning.”

“Shouldn’t you be robbing a bank or getting your ass kicked by superheroes?”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

The kid snarls wordlessly and chucks an empty carton from some chinese place at him.

“Fuck off man. Forget this dump.”

“What, you know a better one to eat from?”

“I know one that doesn’t have a fucking weirdo supervillain in it!”

The kid slams the lid of the dumpster down.

Rude.

^My current obsession. Focuses on the relationship between Tommy and Wilbur and it's written extremely well. Wilbur is a supervillain who stumbles upon a homeless Tommy and decides to take him in as much as he can. Tommy has extreme trust issues but he's also starved for both touch and affection. Similarly to You'll Be Okay Kiddo, this one has so much yearning. Tommy wants nothing more than to reach out for the warmth Wilbur is offering, but he has been burned too many times. Wilbur wants nothing more than to bundle Tommy up in fluffy blankets, but he knows that one wrong move will send Tommy running (updates daily). Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous Gen/Completed/63k - Adoption AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending Summary: Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old. He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

^Tommy is due to be fostered by Phil and his adopted son Techno, but he refuses to leave the orphanage without his brother Wilbur. Phil decides to take them both. Tommy and Wilbur are terrified, Techno is insecure, they work it out. Love the relationship progression and how the building trust between Techno and the others is written. Responsible Forever by SilverWing15 Gen/Completed/17k - semi-adoption, Raccoon Innit, Hurt/Comfort, Feral Child TommyInnit

Summary: “You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

^ Beautifully written fic about Phil and co trying to resocialise a quite literal feral raccoon child. Tommy is scared but painfully slowly learns to trust his new family. The way Tommy is so painfully hesitant but still yearns for the idea of family is both heartbreaking and incredible to read. I'd forgotten people are kind by BialyLis Gen/Ongoing/95k - Adoption AU, Foster Care, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse

Summary: "Wilbur did not look like a "difficult" child. Honestly, he looked like a child struggling to reach his next birthday on his own. In an oversized, faded sweater, with bruises on his forearms, and a still unhealed, split lip, he definitely didn't resemble the little terrorist Phil had carefully guarded all sharp objects from. More like a victim of a natural disaster. As if he had spent hours on the roof escaping a flood, only to be carried away by a tornado. But burying the knives was still a good idea. The kid seemed to trip over while making a sandwich."

^ Phil struggling through the uneasy process of becoming a dad to Wilbur and Techno, who have both been hurt too much for them to trust easily. Still updating hey, hi, hello by ph1sh T/Ongoing/13k - High School/College, Teacher Phil Watson, Students Wilbur, Techno and Tommy, Family Dynamic

Summary: Phil knows he isn't the first teacher to have hopes of changing kids' lives for the better, and he won't be the last. But Oakwood High seems to want to crush those hopes. He's a first year teacher still working on his college degree, he doesn't know how he planned on helping three students when he can barely help himself. or It's Phil's first year teaching and he gets stuck with detention duty. It just so happens that Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno can't stay out of detention. ^ Phil helping the "problem" children that lesser people have already gave up on. I love the way Phil (and the reader) slowly uncovers the backstory of Wilbur, Techno and Tommy. Still ongoing but a lovely read so far.

Change fate by being aggressively kind - or any other fic by sircantus

T/Ongoing/78k - AU - Magic, Phil Being the Best Dad Ever - The Fic, Protective Phil

Summary: “You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings. “He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at. “He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!” “Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.” Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children. Phil has a different plan. (In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world) I think this one speaks for itself. Sircantus is always top notch. If you haven't read this one yet, do it.

#SBI #sleepy bois inc #SBI fic rec #SBI fics #long post #sbi fic rec

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edenmemes · 4 years

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red dead redemption 2 starters

❝ in these books life seems so simple, but in reality… i can’t make head nor tail of it. ❞ ❝ listen to me. when the times comes, you gotta run and don’t look back. ❞ ❝ i ain’t afraid of dying. ❞ ❝ i’m still standing, which is an improvement on the last time you saw me. ❞ ❝ i still think about you. that was...that was quite a time. ❞ ❝ people don’t forget. nothing gets forgiven. ❞ ❝ your father would rather you did not do anything so foolish. ❞ ❝ forgiveness, well...it’s just an easy way of saying ‘i don’t care no more’. ❞ ❝ i know you like to hide behind the angry moron act, but it’s a thin enough veneer. ❞ ❝ when somebody doesn’t lie in this world and you don’t lie to them, then together you can achieve great things and destroy great powers. ❞ ❝ i remain a fool, and i’m sure i shall die a fool, but i’m trying very hard to be something like the man you deserve. ❞ ❝ i am always honest, maybe not always good, but i'm always honest. ❞ ❝ why you got that guilty look on your face? ❞ ❝ i trust i will not make a god awful fool of myself once more-- but somehow i imagine i shall. ❞ ❝ please don’t go to any trouble on my account. ❞ ❝ you ain’t gonna die. not yet. ❞ ❝ feels like things have changed...the whole world has changed. ❞ ❝ i feel like we haven’t spoken for days. ❞ ❝ we’re thieves in a world that don’t want us no more. ❞ ❝ we can’t change what’s done. we can only move on. ❞ ❝ just do one thing or the other. don’t try to be two people at once. ❞ ❝ we’re more ghosts than people. ❞ ❝ how can romance ever be silly? it’s all we have. ❞ ❝ vengeance is an idiot’s game. ❞ ❝ i don’t think we can go much further on the horses. ❞ ❝ i'm surprised we escaped at all. ❞ ❝ you’re...i was gonna say you’re like a son/daughter to me. ❞ ❝ you’re...i was gonna say you’re like a son/daughter to me...but you’re more than that. ❞ ❝ this is a new low, even by your standards. ❞ ❝ i do my utmost to avoid you. ❞ ❝ i thought the whole point was that this had nothing to do with you? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry to complain. it’s just so... ❞ ❝ i need you now...more than ever. ❞ ❝ face me to the west so i can watch the setting sun and remember all the fine times we had that way. ❞ ❝ do you ever miss home? must be hard, being so far away. ❞ ❝ you know, we’re gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar. ❞ ❝ there’s a good man within you...but he is wrestling a giant. ❞ ❝ you saved my life. you’re a good man. ❞ ❝ there’s only one of me. i don’t intend for them to know i’m coming. ❞ ❝ i thought you were trying to make me feel better. ❞ ❝ be loyal to what matters. ❞ ❝ you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you squeal before. ❞ �� i'm miserable. been a tough few days. ❞ ❝ i trust your judgement. always have. ❞ ❝ i'm just gonna...have a little sit down and...feel sorry for myself. ❞ ❝ i tried. in the end. i did. ❞ ❝ one day, folk will take orders from me...and trust me, it won’t be no laughing matter. ❞ ❝ here, take a drink of this. ❞ ❝ seems like there ain’t much else in this world except bastards, victims of bastards and the bastards who want to put the bastards in the ground. ❞ ❝ we’ll get off this mountain soon enough. ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept in three days. ❞ ❝ just thought you might’ve moved on by now. ❞ ❝ thanks for coming for me. ❞ ❝ you got sad eyes...like you’ve seen sad things. ❞ ❝ you always said revenge is a luxury we can’t afford. ❞ ❝ you don’t hire a saint to catch a sinner. ❞ ❝ you’re alive! oh, you’re alive! ❞ ❝ go. now. i’ll hold them off. ❞ ❝ are you okay? i mean you no harm. ❞ ❝ i'm nobody. ❞ ❝ what about you? you doubting me too? ❞ ❝ it’s enough to make a man drink. or worse. ❞ ❝ i knew not to trust, yet i had no choice. ❞ ❝ there ain’t no more time to talk. go. ❞ ❝ thank you, for your strength. it means a lot to me. ❞ ❝ firstly, we ain’t friends. don’t make no mistake on that subject. ❞ ❝ i'm so bored i’d rather be shot. ❞ ❝ it’ll mean a lot to me...please. ❞ ❝ you’re gonna sleep with your chest open if you ain’t careful. ❞ ❝ the bond we share, it’s the most real thing to me. i would kill for it, i would happily die for it... ❞ ❝ life is full of pain. but there is also love, and beauty. ❞ ❝ my pa used to say you stare into the fire long enough you can see the whole world pass by. ❞ ❝ whenever we happen to meet, you’re always helping people and smiling. ❞ ❝ do as you’re goddamn told. and shoot well. ❞ ❝ i guess he never outgrew his anger. kind of like you. ❞ ❝ some trees flourish, others die. some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. ain't nothing fair. you know that. ❞ ❝ you’re driven by powerful forces i scarcely understand. ❞ ❝ oh you fool. you sad, deluded fool. torn in two by different ideas of who you were, and it turns out you weren't neither of them. ❞ ❝ well, i think you’re as slippery as an eel in an oil slick, but still a man/woman. ❞ ❝ with you watching over me, i’d walk into hell itself. ❞ ❝ lack of something to feel important about is almost the greatest tragedy a man may have. ❞ ❝ when i was your age, i fought. i saw death. i have killed. ❞ ❝ i wish things were different. but it weren’t us who changed. ❞ ❝ nobody’s taking anything from me ever again. ❞ ❝ some jobs aren’t for saving and some legacies are for pissing on. ❞ ❝ you're my favorite parasite... no, wait, ringworm's my favorite parasite, you're my second-favorite parasite... i lied. ringworm, then, rats with the plague, then you. ❞ ❝ just leave it to me. i can talk a dog off a meat wagon. ❞ ❝ forgive me if i slip and stab you in the face. ❞ ❝ this place, ain’t no such thing as civilized. it’s man so in love with greed, that he has forgotten himself and found only appetites. ❞ ❝ shut up...you know, you’re not very nice to me. ❞ ❝ the amount of hell we’ve raised, we’re owed some back. ❞ ❝ i haven’t done anything wrong aside of not playing the games to your rules. ❞ ❝ don’t let yourself get killed...for pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folk. ❞ ❝ when you fall, there’ll be a party. ❞ ❝ every day i didn’t kill you, is a day i saved your life. ❞ ❝ i can’t kill them all silently so, when they chase me, you go the other way. ❞ ❝ does this seem like a good time for sarcasm to you? ❞ ❝ usually i’m worse than the wolves. ❞ ❝ i don’t have to be careful. i have you as a friend. ❞ ❝ i wish i had acquired wisdom at less of a price. ❞ ❝ they’re chasing us hard, because we represent everything they fear. ❞ ❝ you know all that mattered to me was loyalty? it was all i ever believed in. ❞ ❝ never thought i’d say this but...it’s good to see you. ❞ ❝ we’ve all lived bad lives. we all sin...but i know you. ❞ ❝ i kill people. and maybe i should’ve killed you. ❞ ❝ ain’t you a sorry sight? ❞ ❝ your job’s starting the fights, it ain’t winning them. ❞ ❝ some big, loud mouthed bastard tried to rob me when i was out riding so i... well, you know how it is. ❞ ❝ there ain’t no shame in looking for a better world. ❞ ❝ i can hunt, carry a knife, and use a gun. ❞ ❝ ...is it too late for us? ❞ ❝ if the purpose of life was to be liked...it would be very boring indeed. ❞ ❝ i’ve been running for as long as i can remember. ❞ ❝ they turned me into a monster. ❞ ❝ i always wondered if i was unlucky...but maybe i’m just not very good. ❞ ❝ don’t kill yourself over pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folks. ❞ ❝ sorry if i seem a little desperate. i am a little desperate. ❞ ❝ if anyone gets close to me, they’re wanted too. and i can’t have you wrapped up in that. ❞ ❝ there’s all kinds of nasty people who want to speak to you. ❞ ❝ they won’t hear anything about you from me. ❞ ❝ tell me about you, darling and armed to the teeth like that. ❞ ❝ i also...found out some unsettling news about you. ❞ ❝ i don’t know how to say it...thank you. ❞ ❝ you...don’t like me much, do you? ❞ ❝ i can’t lie to you. i’m a wanted man. ❞ ❝ that’s quite a scratch you got there. ❞ ❝ take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act. ❞ ❝ i’m seeing things a lot more clearly now. ❞ ❝ where are you? can you hear me? ❞ ❝ i think someone saw some wolves, not far away. you should watch out. ❞ ❝ guess all i got now is doubt. doubts and scars. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t me who went and shot him. ❞ ❝ will you dance with me? ❞ ❝ i like you. you’ve got a kind face. ❞ ❝ i’m not a good man. not usually. ❞ ❝ there’s a lot i should’ve done and even more i shouldn’t have done. ❞ ❝ you are a compulsive liar. ❞ ❝ next time, i’ll slit your throat myself. ❞ ❝ as long as we get paid or you get shot, i’m happy. ❞ ❝ i'm not designed for this snow. ❞ ❝ you don’t get to live a bad life and have good things happen to you. ❞ ❝ shut up you silly man and kiss me. ❞ ❝ who made you the messiah of these poor souls you’ve led so horribly astray? ❞ ❝ maybe it’s a sign. try to do the good thing. ❞ ❝ how many times do i gotta bury you? ❞ ❝ you are the only feller who could get half of their brain eaten by wolves and end up more intelligent. ❞ ❝ five thousand dollars? for me? can i turn myself in? ❞ ❝ if you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is to stop digging. ❞ ❝ we ain’t both gonna make it. ❞ ❝ i gave you all i had. i did. ❞ ❝ if we have to fight, we fight. If we have to run, we’ll run. if we must die, we’ll die. but…we’ll stay free. ❞ ❝ people call me lazy. i’m not lazy, just don’t like working. there’s a difference. ❞ ❝ i guess...i’m afraid. ❞ ❝ oh, i didn’t know i was talking to a lady. ❞ ❝ i don’t feel too good. ❞ ❝ you have finally lost your mind. ❞

#sentence starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #long post for ts /#im gonna add more to this one later on ! & update it now & again #there's a LOT of stuff in r/dr

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ssaalexblake · 3 years

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a Take: In S12, Thirteen is a literal take on Frankenstein with 13 playing the part of ‘the monster’ and Tecteun as not-doctor-frankenstein, the baby doctor is their Child but actually just their experiment like the monster from Mary Shelley’s book, The Master is Also playing the part of the monster but it’s shone in a different light because of their vastly different personalities meaning that the doctor and master both shed light onto the monster’s struggle in the original text, is he is a monster or not? if he is considered a monster why not Act like one? etc etc but with the master this also goes beyond the Physical interpretation that he is genetically part whatever species the timeless child was because he is also left grappling with Missy’s actions: Was it Me who changed myself or the Doctor? Who am I and what parts of me are Them? But then we get to the total opposite side of the bridge with Yaz who is yes, fully human, but in this season we discover Yaz’s habit of emulating those she respects and admires and basically copying them into her own personality.... There is no literal interpretation of frankenstein’s plight, here, but arguably we could ask ‘Who Is Yaz’ underneath this all. How much is Yasmin Khan and how much is all the personality traits she decided to copy from other people (the police officer who helped her that day, 13, there are probably more lbr).

S12 is Very ‘Who are you’ in general. The plot is made literal by the timeless child angle, the doctor and the master both playing interpretations of the monster display different reaction to it, and then just for kicks a Literal monster made of parts of other men walks around creating horror and even more monsters who are forced to conform to the original’s wants. Ashad, notably, has free will. Had he not made the Choice to be a monster that hunts down humanity and kills them all would he still be a monster? If you remove the zealotism from him and leave a normal person who just Happens to somebody made of other peoples mismatched body parts, is he still a monster?

The narrative of the season Actually explicitly says Yes when they deliver his back story, they say even Before his failed conversion he was like this. So we have a normal average person, no funky genetics, no parts, just your average human monster.

But... The effects of the timeless child being raised in the society that victimized them made them awful as well! They did not start to walk upon the long road of succeeding in decency until the first doctor met Ian and Barbara, everything before this and they’d have been your typical time lord nightmare. This was what Tecteun Made them. Does that make the doctor a monster, they they were raised in the society that victimised them and then forced them to conform, or does it make them the victim?

There are So many existential questions asked this season, what makes us a monster? If we are parts of all the people around us what is Actually us and what is them? Can i Choose to not be a monster even if everybody thinks i am one or should i just fulfil their expectations? How much do events out of our control shape me in ways that we have no choice over?

s12 included a lot of people made up of parts of other people and discussed the agency we have as individuals despite that, and how our choices Matter, how we respond to things out of our control Matters. All to the backdrop of an enemy who takes you, strips all of your choices away and Makes you conform.

The point isn’t that the doctor was frankenstein’s monster, the Point is that when they grow up and learnt better they Choose to not be a monster once they started travelling with humans. The point is the Master could have done Anything when learning this knowledge and decided to be the worst monster he could think up. The point is Ashad was terrible all along, he didn’t become a monster after his failed conversion made him look monstrous, he was terrible all along. The point is Yaz is trying to be Good by taking in parts of other people knowingly to try to spread goodness, and stop terrible things. Frankenstein the book is a lot about choices and this season is just a big take on all of that.

#dw shit #anyway this isn't well phrased but hell if i'm opening up frankenstein to use quotes to make it more official looking #i hate romantics era prose

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dcforts · 3 years

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[something more]

ao3.

Dean never wants to go to hunter gatherings.

First, because they don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to meeting other hunters, and second, because whenever they go there's always people looking at them like they’re freaks. He knows they tell all sorts of stories about them and some are hard, ugly truths that Dean would rather stop thinking about for the rest of his life.

But he's got a text from Carol while he was about to get in the car after wrapping up a case, and Sam asked who it was, so it had become a Thing to discuss.

And Dean’s main argument was “Why would we go?”, but Sam’s was “Why not?”, which was objectively stronger. And it got worse because from the backseat Jack kept interjecting with, “Go where?” and, “Who are these people?” until Sam paid attention to him and explained that hunters meet up sometimes to “get a drink, exchange stories”, and that had made him light up like a Christmas tree because Jack loved stories and the idea of expanding his pool of knowledge on hunting and creatures appealed to him greatly.

So the fact that Dean had tried to point out that, “This is stupid. We are hunters, not a book club,” had sorted no effect whatsoever. No, instead, Jack had said, “That sounds nice. We should go,” and when Dean had met Cas’ eyes in the rear view mirror, all he had offered was a shrug.

Typical.

It’s not that Dean wants to be a hermit or something, but he always feels like he needs to be wary of who’s gonna be at these sorts of things because some may treat them like Hollywood stars, but some may want to shoot them on sight. Anyone could come up to them and call them out for starting the end of the world, letting monsters out of Hell and Purgatory, cosmic beings out of their cages, getting their family killed, destroying their lives.

And there’s also this: are they really ready for Jack’s debut in society? Sam thinks they are. He thinks it’s a great opportunity to show that the community doesn’t have anything to worry about. He’s with them now and he’s not going anywhere so they should get used to that. Cas says he’ll be there to intervene in case things go south and Dean’s mind flashes with Carol’s house burning to the ground after Cas’ has gone all mama swan on the hunters. He meets Sam’s eyes briefly and it looks like he had the exact same images playing in front of his eyes, “I’m sure it won’t be necessary," he adds quickly.

So Sam wanted to go and Jack wanted to go and Cas didn’t seem to be able to say no to the kid even if he tried, so Dean had to bite his cheek and wake up early the next morning to drive across the state.

At least it’s a nice day, at least it stopped raining and the sun is breaking in from the clouds; the chilly air that comes in from the window that Cas is in the habit of keeping rolled all the way down brings in the pleasant smell of wet leaves.

Dean feels his knees bumping on the back of his seat from time to time and looks at him in the rear view mirror and Cas sometimes catches his eyes and sometimes he doesn’t.

At least they are spending time together. It’s rare for Cas to stay around after a hunt these days. He doesn’t need the down time they require, or so he says. He gets bored in the bunker, starts climbing the walls the second the door closes behind them. He gets restless, and then there’s Heaven and always bigger things to deal with, and Dean imagines that that beats staying behind to play foosball with him and Jack.

Going on hunts with Cas is always fun, but it’s also a run against time and there’s death and guns and fear involved, even when it’s an easy-peasy salt-and-burn. And it’s the four of them crammed in a motel room, so they don’t get much time to be alone. And Dean likes when they are all together, but likes it more when Sam and Jack disappear in the maze of the bunker and he gets to have his best friend all for himself.

That is why Dean had been pleased when Cas had expressed his intention of staying with them for a couple more days. In that moment Dean had been busy keeping his lunch in his stomach - he’d just found the shredded skin of a shapeshifter in a freaking kitchen drawer - but he’d heard him loud and clear all the same.

They were moving about in the victim’s house looking for clues and talking about other stuff, when Cas had said something along the lines of, “I could work on it once we go back to the bunker,” and Dean had asked, half distracted, “So you’re going back with us?” and Cas had his back turned and Dean had opened the drawer in that moment, but he'd heard him when he’d said:

“I guess.”

It was barely a whisper but it meant yes, that’s all that mattered. And it also meant, from Dean’s perspective, a really nice weekend, that included, not in order of importance: his hot dog pants, driving around with the music up, Dean’s cave and Cas.

So, yeah, if Dean was completely honest with himself – something that he generally tried to avoid – it’s not like he wanted to waste a whole day of that to go spend it with a bunch of strangers.

But it doesn’t matter now, because they’ve piled up in the Impala and driven to Carol’s.

Dean likes her. She spent half her life working at a bank, but after crossing path with a djinn she hanged her suit, moved out of the city and created a safe place for hunters, soon becoming a beacon in the community in Kansas. Her door is always open, as she said that one time they met her on a case. Dean likes her for no-nonsense ways, her honest looks and, not less importantly, her amazing sandwiches.

Carol fusses over him and Sam in the hall, scolds them for taking so long to visit when they live in the same state, then Sam makes the introductions, and it’s only his shifting a little from side to side that betrays his nervousness.

Her eyes focus on Cas and her expression speaks of wonder and surprise.

“The angel Castiel,” she calls him and he nods, “a long way from Heaven.”

“The weather here is nicer,” he says, and Dean snorts softly next to him.

Jack wins her over immediately with his wide smile and polite hand shake, “I look forward to exchanging stories,” he says and she huffs a laugh and says:

“Sure, Jack. We heard a lot about you. I bet everyone will be eager to talk to you.”

On the other side of Cas, Sam gets more fidgety; he says, “If you think uh – we don’t want any trouble.”

But she shakes her head and gestures dismissively. “Nonsense. No one will start trouble if they don't wanna see the end of my rifle. A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” she reassures him. “Plus, Eileen vouched for him.”

“Sh-she is here already?” Sam almost chokes up and all of the sudden he seems to have grown a few inches taller.

Dean understands now. He pieces together his insistence in coming to this thing, his bouncing knee throughout their journey, the way he checked his phone more or less forty-five times. He feels slightly less bad about having caved in. There are a lot of things that Dean would give up for Sam, and things that he would conjure out of thin air just for him to have, if he could. But there’s so much he can’t give him and he wants Sam to just get out and take, have and enjoy. So if he wanted to come here just to meet Eileen again, Dean’s happy to be complicit.

Sam is the first to disappear in the packed living room, with Jack following right behind, but Dean grabs Castiel’s elbow before he can take another step. He circles him to block him from the entrance and says, “Hey, stick with me, alright? Last time I was at one of these things this guy Norman talked about his knife collection for three hours.”

“But, Jack…”

“He’s with Sam, he’s gonna be fine,” says Dean, dismissing. He grins, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people; don’t you wanna make friends?”

Cas makes a face but doesn't say anything else. Apparently Jack is not the only one who he seems unable to refuse something to and that makes Dean feel good. He trails after him around the room as Dean stops to say hello from familiar face to familiar face.

There’s Max and Alicia, sprawled on a couch, nursing the worst hangover Dean’s seen in a long time. They say they're happy to see him, but then they eye Cas up and down and Max says something along the lines of, “Oh, I see now why you keep him hidden from us," and that prompts Dean to quickly move along.

Then they bump into this old man who claims to have been one of the patrons of the Roadhouse. Dean has no idea who he is, but he swears he remembers him from when he was a boy - of course he remembers, and hey, if he needs anything, did he know that he was retired but still kept an eye out for monster sightings, and did he hear of that one time he and Bill Harvelle -

Dean tries to nod and smile appropriately for the whole time and when they finally manage to escape him, Cas leads him to an empty corner where they can take refuge.

"I didn't think there would be this many people," Cas says, surveying the room clearly looking for Jack.

Dean elbows him and points at where the kid is talking animatedly to two young hunters he's never seen, "What is he even talking about?"

"Our last case."

"Wh-? Oh, right, I always forget you have the superhearing," then he has a thought and adds, "Hey, you gonna tell me if you hear someone talking shit about me, right?"

Cas' eyebrows raise in thinly veiled amusement and that's all the answer Dean needs, "What? Who?" he asks, outraged.

But Cas doesn't have time to answer before they get interrupted and soon surrounded by hunters Dean's seen on the road, worked with, heard about. Some share their epic tales of escapes from impossible dangers, some are curious and some are brave and blunt and they ask Cas questions and address him without fear and Cas is polite and just a tiny bit awkward.

It gets a little chilly when this guy with too many beers in starts bragging about how he knows all about angels' weaks spots. Cas' face stays as stony as it gets for the whole time but then he says “I suggest you check your sources,” with a deep voice that runs a shiver down Dean’s spine, and he’s not even the one who’s directing his intense gaze at.

There are so many different people that Cas doesn't stick out like a sore thumb, and Dean finds himself thinking that if they were just two regular hunters in a crowd and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.

He almost sighs of relief when he eyes Eileen on the other side of the room and steers Cas towards her.

"I can't believe I still haven't had a single beer," he mutters as they elbow their way through the crowd. Sam hovers around her with a timid smile plastered on his face that doesn’t seem to take any breaks.

Dean hugs her and tries not to follow Cas’ movement with the corner of his eyes when he senses him stepping away from his side.

Eileen calls his attention back. She makes fun of him saying, “Sam told me you didn’t want to come. Getting too old to leave the house?”

“Very funny,” Dean says.

“Next time we can organize something at the bunker. There’s so much space," she says, smirking.

Dean thinks 'Yeah, no way' and says, “Yeah, no way,” and she laughs.

“But you,” Dean adds, “you can come stay with us. Anytime. For as long as you want. We would love to have you. Me, Sam,” he says wiggling his eyebrows in a way that has his brother close his eyes in embarrassment, “you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you,” she signs, blushing a little, “I’ll try to come by.”

Dean is glad to know that. She has opened a door in Sam’s life that he probably thought closed forever and Dean will always be grateful to her for that. Also, she is a badass and totally out of his brother’s dorky league.

Cas comes standing by his side again and Dean feels a gentle touch on the small of his back. It's intimate and unexpected so he steps away immediatly almost on instict and Cas' drops his hand. He meets his gaze and they frown at each other for a second. Cas seems about to say something, but then goes back to sporting his usual face, “I think I saw Claire. I’m going to find her.”

So Dean, with that spot on his lower back still tingling, follows him out of the room and into another where there’s only a few scattered hunters and Jack, happily squeezed on a couch with his new friends, his mouth hanging open as he hears a story from this guy named Ronnie that Dean knows for a fact only talks shit. The kid seems to be having fun though, he waves at them as move along.

They find Claire in the empty white kitchen, and catch her right when she’s about to open herself a beer. Her eyes widen in panic but she doesn’t manage to hide the bottle behind her back fast enough.

“Hey guys,” she says with a nervous laugh, “didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Dean stretches out a hand without a word and she drops the act, sighs and hands it over. Before she can say anything else, Cas steps between them, "Claire, it's nice to see you," he says and she lets him squeeze her into a hug.

Pressed against his shoulder, Dean sees her face change expression, her body slightly relax in his arms. She pats him on the back and says: “Good to see you too, Cas.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just passing through,” she replies, putting on airs, “Finished up a job a few miles north. I thought I’d drop by Carol’s before moving on.”

She flips a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder and Dean scoffs.

“So you are in Kansas, and you don’t call, and you drop by Carol’s? Were you even planning on stopping by the bunker?”

She rolls her eyes at him, “I go where the job takes me, Dean. I don’t make plans.”

Dean rolls his eyes in the exact same way, “Right. Well, you know it wouldn’t kill you to stay with us for a while. We could get you a bit of training.”

She groans as if she's heard that same speech about a thousand times, but Cas cuts off whatever she was going to retort with and says, “We weren’t planning on coming either. Sam and Jack are here too.”

“Jack’s here?” she lights up. She says she's heard all sorts of things about him and she can’t wait to meet the kid and of course she’s gonna go easy on him, it’s not like she’s gonna eat him, Jesus, Dean, protective much?

Dean frowns at her but she’s already halfway out of the room. “I can be his big sister. I mean, he should have someone he can talk to. Living with you three must be – a lot.”

“Hey,” protests Dean, but she just laughs and disappears down the hallway.

Dean shakes his head and leans against one of the kitchen counters. Cas does the same against the opposite island. At the end of the narrow passage between the furniture there’s a glass door that gives into the patio and a small garden beyond it.

The door is ajar and fresh air comes in; Cas gets engrossed in watching the pattern the raindrops formed on the glass and Dean gets engrossed in watching Cas. He seems lost in thought and Dean would like to say something but doesn’t want to be annoying. Not today, not when tomorrow he could be gone.

He’ll take this quiet moment instead.

“She’ll be a bad influence on Jack,” he breaks the silence, and that gets him an amused quirk of lips, “But it really would be nice to have her around more often.”

Curiously that has Cas' take his eyes away from the glass and lay his gaze on him. He has his lips pressed in a small smile.

“What?”

“You want people you love around you.”

Dean frowns, “What about it?” he asks, and it comes out sharp and defensive.

Cas shakes his head a little, but there’s a shadow on his face that confuses him: “Nothing, I only meant -" but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because a group of hunters enters the kitchen talking loudly and soon Dean has his vision blocked by half a dozen bodies and he has to press himself against the cabinets to let them through, towards the garden door.

One guy in a baseball cap stops in his track as he sees Dean.

He asks with his eyes wide and stunned expression if he is Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester and Dean is glad that the rest of the group is already out of earshot because he wasn’t in the mood for a meet and greet session. But the guy starts talking about some hunter named Troy, who he has supposedly hunted with a couple of years back. And Dean’s not in a habit of calling people liars but he's pretty sure he'd remember if he had wiped out a nest of fangs with this guy and allegedly taken down five all on his own and went and get steaks and beer afterwards.

He tries to shoot him down gently and say, “Maybe your friend had me confused with someone else,” but the guy’s face falls and tells him Troy has recently passed on the job and this was his favourite story to tell, and he would always tell it, all proud and all.

Dean pats him on a shoulder then.

“You know what, we shouldn’t ruin it for him now, should we? Troy, you say? Of course I remember him,” he says and throws in a wink. The guy beams at him and thanks him and gets a little chocked up because Troy might have been a liar but he swears he was one of the good ones.

The guy invites him to join his friends for a drink but Dean raises his half-empty bottle and says “I’m fine, thanks.”

When the guy walks away, Cas moves to lean on the counter by his side. Dean feels the familiar weight of his arm against his and he wonders if they could pick up the conversation where they left it. But Cas says:

“That was nice of you.”

Dean shrugs looking down at their shoes lined up and for some reason he thinks it’s a funny sight. If they were just two shoe wearing creatures standing side by side and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.

“Doesn't really change my life. And it's a good story,” he huffs a laugh, it comes out bitter, “Better than some of the true ones anyway.”

“I understand what you mean,” says Cas with a sigh and Dean extends his arm to offer him his beer, and even though Cas usually refuses, this time he takes it.

Dean does his best not to follow his hand bringing the bottle to his lips. And he does his best, later, not to wonder if the wetness touching his lips when he drinks is just beer or something else.

If they were just two drinking creatures, sharing a bottle of beer and nothing more, perhaps everything would be easier.

Soon the bottle is empty and Cas says, “I’ll get you another one,” but Dean refuses.

It’s nice there - someone's turned the music on in the other room, but here it's muffled by the walls, and the light is just right to make Cas’ eyes look like sapphires. They don’t need to move.

But then the group of hunters out in the patio erupts in laughter and Cas’ gaze shifts on them and then lingers on the glass door.

Dean feels him slipping from him once again. He sighs, “You wanna go out, check the garden?”

Cas nods and heads out and Dean can’t do anything but follow, past the hunters and the patio. They walk the perimeter of the small square of grass, wet and glistening with old rain. The sun and the clouds draw patches of light on the ground and they move from dark to light to dark again in an irregular rhythm, chasing the warmth of the sunlight and the relief of the shade. Dean feels uncomfortable in both, but there’s no middle line he can walk on.

“Sorry we dragged you here,” he finds himself saying, “You never stick around, and for once that you do, that’s what you get.”

Cas frowns slightly at him, “I stick around,” he protests.

Dean laughs, “You don’t,” he says and although he tries to reign it in with the bitterness, it stills seeps out. Cas’ gaze prompts him to explain himself, “Come on, the minute we’re done with a case you are out of here. I don’t blame you,” he quickly adds cutting off whatever Cas was opening his mouth to say. “I know you don’t like sitting around. Believe me, no one understands that more than I do.”

A long beat passes and then Cas says, “I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel like I don’t want to spend time with you.”

Dean stops in his tracks and Cas stops with him to face him.

Dean shakes his head, “Cas, you don’t have to apologize to me. This is not about me. And I said, I get it,” he shrugs.

Cas doesn’t look at all convinced and Dean doesn’t feel at all convinced either. He knows this is not about his feelings. It’s more like a general way of how things are. It’s a truth, a fact. Sam would say the same.

Sam would. Standing here in the garden with him, Sam would tell him the very same things and wish for the very same things. He’s sure he would. He's not accusing Cas of anything. On the contrary, he’s showing him understanding.

“It’s all the same for me, I swear. I don't care,” he adds, but saying that hurts a little, for some reason he can’t quite determine, and he finds his own frown mirrored on Cas’ face.

“Alright,” he says, sounding profoundly sad and again the same shadow passes on his face.

This is all wrong. What did he do?

“Look, I don’t get what you want me to say. If you wanted to - ” he exhales, angrily, “Just - forget it, let’s go back inside,” he says but as he tries to walk away Cas stops him by his elbow.

“You could ask me.”

He looks unsure, troubled, as if he is not quite certain this is a good idea. Dean breathes out a confused, “What?” that he himself can barely hear.

Cas squares his shoulders, “To stay. You could ask me,” he sounds accusing, and he takes a step forward. His eyes are firm in Dean’s and with his elbow still in his grip, he feels like a hummingbird flapping his wings in the paw of a dragon, “You ask everybody else.”

Dean’s heart starts pounding. He tries to swallow but his mouth is too dry.

“I don’t wanna ask you, Cas,” he says, cutting, yanking his arm free of his hold, and it sounds bad, bad, bad to his ears and he can read hurt all over Cas’ face. He needs to explain himself. He takes a breath, says a lame, “I mean, if you don't -”

And then, Dean suddenly understands.

Cas thinks he doesn’t -

He thinks he doesn’t care if he’s around and doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need him.

Dean feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He’s not ready for this. He’s not ready for this. He fights the need to look down. He doesn’t know why this is so hard for him. It’s just Cas. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s Cas. It would hurt ten times more if he were to say no. It’s nothing like with Claire, he asked her for her; it’s nothing like with Eileen, he asked her for Sam. But if he asked Cas, he would be asking for himself, wouldn’t he?

Seeing him walk away anyway would be too much then.

But maybe he wouldn’t.

Cas senses his struggle, “If you want, you can ask me,” he says, coming closer, in his eyes his timeless patience, that gaze that tells him that he is seen, he is known. Cas says: “I will say yes,” and it’s barely more than a whisper but Dean’s brain is a step away from short-circuiting anyway.

He looks away and he doesn’t recognize his own voice when he blurts out a hurried, muttered, nervous, almost angry: “Well, stay, then.”

But then a sunbeam decides to cut through the clouds in that exact moment and has Dean looking up again. The lazy sunlight of an early afternoon shines on Cas’ face. He’s not bothered by the sudden change of light, unlike Dean, who has to squint and bring a hand to his forehead.

Cas’ eyes sparkle like shimmering water when he says, “Okay.”

Dean barely remembers what happens after that. That image gets imprinted behind his eyelids and he can’t stop thinking about it.

He floats through a darts game and a dozen of Carol’s sandwiches. Then there's Jack telling an embarrassing story about him that has people folding in two with laughter, and Claire agreeing on following them back to the bunker only with the promise of destroying him at foosball.

There's Sam introducing him to this lady to work a job together on alledged arachnes activity in Winsconsin and a girl who wants him to debunk some stuff she's heard about them but she doesn't believe (he disappoints her cause they are mostly true) but most importantly, there's Cas' thigh pressed against his when he's sitting and Cas’ shoulder just an inch away when he's standing, and somehow it's different than it was before.

Most of all, he feels lighter than he's felt in ages.

Later, as he gets to his car with Sam, he says, “Hey, you know, you were right. It was a little fun,” and his brother looks at him in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? We came here to meet new people and you spent all your time with Cas.”

Dean shrugs, embarrassed to be called out. “So what? You spent all your time with Eileen,” he says and he regrets it immediately, especially as Sam purses his lips like he’s holding back a laugh.

He nods, “I see your point,” he says diplomatically, stressing the t, before he slips into the passenger seat.

Dean doesn’t look forward in continuing the conversation, crammed in a small space with his ears burning and Sam’s gigantic enquiring eyes on him, thank you very much, so he stays out of the car, his arms crossed on the roof, frowning at himself.

He watches as Cas comes down the little pathway with Jack and Claire. In the orange light of the sunset, Jack turns to ask him something and Cas nods. Typical. At the end of the path they split and only Cas makes his way across the street.

"Jack is riding with Claire," he says as soon as he's within earshot. He sounds like he doesn't think it's a good idea and it's a little funny.

"Relax, we're gonna be right behind them."

Cas seems reassured by that, but it only lasts the time it takes for him to make his way around the car, because even before he can grab the car handle, Claire speeds past them shouting, "See you, dorks." Now he looks truly alarmed.

Dean says, "You up for a ride after we drop Sam off?” and all his worry melts away from his face. He says a soft, “Alright,” and disappears into the backseat.

So when they get to the bunker, Dean doesn't follow Claire’s car to the garage and stops up front, the engine running. Sam looks at him confused, “We’ll be here in an hour,” Dean just says, grateful for the shadows around his face.

Sam is stunned for just a second, then snorts, “Fine guys, I’ll babysit tonight, but next time you gotta ask.”

He gets out and the next moment Cas has taken his seat. He doesn't waste time to pop one of Dean's tapes in the deck as he takes the road again.

Dean rolls his window down and in the night air that ruffles his hair he can smell another storm coming. He turns the music up and meets Cas’ eyes. There’s a smile in there somewhere that mirrors his own.

And - they may not be just two individuals in a car going nowhere and nothing more, and things may not be easy, probably never will, but maybe, Dean thinks, it doesn’t really matter in the end.

#deancas #deancas ficlet #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel #4.9k #this is about how dumb they are #'why doesn't he stay VS why doesn't he ask me to stay' kind of dumb #their usual basically #jack claire and eileen are in this #i wish we got to see more of the hunter community cooperating #in the beginning there were waaay less people - then i guess i just miss crowds #how do you do titles #spncreatorsdaily #my writing #ive been working on this for ages and im still not sure i did it right

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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1x20: Dead Man's Blood

Guys! We really wanted to save this VERY SPECIAL episode until the end, but it’s just SO special we couldn’t wait. It’s the episode that all mythology of the show balances on --John being a deadbeat on his own hunts, JENNY!!, and vampires (aka, the one thing Dean can’t kill and also something this family has never run into before so, you know, John could HAVE never described masked ones in his journal)

Fun fact: Jenny isn’t actually named in this episode (because woman don’t matter enough to name, silly!) Giving this character a name is the slowest burn storyline this entire show had!

Then:

John Winchester: Father of the Decade

Now:

Manning, Colorado

Mr. Elkins sits at a bar, pouring over his hunter journal. Some rowdy newcomers appear.

Mr. Elkins takes off for home --a run down cabin in the woods. One of the bar newcomers is waiting for him. Her eyes flash and he throws a knife into her torso. She pulls it out without issue and chases him. He runs to his safe and pulls out the Colt (do we know about the Colt yet? Whatever, spoiler!) but it’s too late, he’s attacked by a couple of other dudes that fly in from the ceiling. Dinner time for the monsters!

At a diner, Dean suggests they head east to find Sarah Blake again.

Sam dismisses such foolishness (because the idea of Sam ending up happy with a woman that we know and like is pure nonsense!!) and mentions the death of Daniel Elkins. Dean remembers that name from John’s journal. ‘

The brothers head to Colorado and check out Elkins’ home. Dean finds Elkins’ journal.

They also find the place torn apart --and weird scratches on the floor. Dean takes a rubbing and realizes that it’s a message for a post box. They head there next and find a note for ‘JW’ in the box.

Before they can open the letter, good ol’ John Winchester appears. He tells them that he saw them at Daniel’s place. Sam asks why he didn’t come in. “You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed.” LISTEN, asshole, these two brothers are doing JUST FINE without you.

John tells the boys that he knew Daniel, but they had a falling out (Jesus, who didn’t you fight with back in the day, John?) John reads Daniel’s letter to him.

John asks if they saw a gun at Elkins’ place. Nope. John rushes out insistent on catching the things that killed Elkins. Sam and Dean ask what they are.

Vampires!

Sam and Dean are shocked that they’re real. John goes over the lore for this show.

We watch the vamps hunt for dinner. A couple is stopped by a body in the road, and while the dude goes to check it out, the woman calls 911. The dude doesn’t last long (and the lady probably doesn’t either.)

John hears the news on the police scanner. Without explanation, he tells his sons to follow him to find the vamps. John confirms that they’re on the right trail for the vampires but Sam wants proof.

He found a fang. They head out --but not before John gets a dig into Dean about how he takes care of his car.

While driving, Sam and Dean break down their mutual feelings about having John back. Dean’s the little soldier and Sam is not. (And Sam is driving, like Dean can’t even be in control and drive the car he loves so much because he can’t truly handle his father’s overbearing abuse?)

At an abandoned barn, the vamps party it up while the couple stay tied up and freaking out about their fate. Then the Keifer Sutherland of the group arrives, giving them permission to feed on the dude.

Kate tells Luther about Daniel Elkins, and he gets upset. More people will track them now. He then sees the Colt. “This is no ordinary gun.”

On the road, Dean tells Sam to pull over because John said so. Sam gets pissy and has a little drag race with pops. And that’s the last time Sam ever drove the Impala. Sam gets in John’s grill about the gun and what they’re doing.

Dean tries to play peacemaker, but it is REALLY TOUGH with these two. John accuses Sam of leaving. Sam accuses John of shutting him out. Dean just wants a HAPPY FAMILY.

Kate and Luther attack the lone surviving victim, Jenny, feeding her Kate’s blood. Somebody wrote on Tumblr recently about this scene and I had blocked it out. Pretty sure I’ve only seen this episode a few times and BELIEVE IT OR NOT Jenny’s fate just did not stick with me. I’d forgotten how highly sexualized they’d made this vampire scene, and then gone further and draped it in assault. Jenny “dies” terrified, victim of one of the few same-sex kisses (on screen) in this entire damn show. Excuse me while I stomp around for a while rending my hair and hurling curses!

Later outside the vampires’ lair, the Winchesters surveil the place. Vamps CAN walk in the sunshine and they do NOT sparkle. John reveals his intricate plan: just...walk into the barn while they’re asleep.

For Still Beautiful, Still Dean Winchester Science:

John fills them in FINALLY on the Colt. Samuel Colt made a gun on the same night as the Battle of the Alamo. Sorry. Just. This is such a random story detail that has literally nothing to do with the Colt? Anyway, Colt made the gun for a hunter and gave him thirteen bullets. The hunter disappeared with only half the bullets used up because the FIRST RULE of the elder wand - I mean, the Colt - is never to brag about the Colt, probably.

The kicker is that the Colt can purportedly kill anything! Like bigfoot! Or God! Or the legendary, rumored-to-be-extinct vampire! (Or, sure, the demon that killed Mary Winchester.) John is hinging their demon-killing success on getting the Colt. The potential vampire killing is just blood-red icing on the cake.

In the barn, John creeps up slowly on the sleeping Kate and Luther, eyes set on the Colt dangling on their bedpost. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean stop their search for the Colt when they realize that there are people trapped for food in the barn. (Good beans!) They work to set them free when Jenny wakes up. She immediately lets out an inhuman roar as soon as she sees Sam.

Luther wakes up and chucks John across the room. He shouts for them to split, and the Winchesters flee. “Once a vampire gets your scent, it’s for life,” John explains. [insert Benny/Dean joke here]

While Dean’s raiding a funeral home, John “bonds” with Sam in the motel. He reveals that he put $100 in a college fund for Sam and Dean when they were born. He did that up until Mary died, and then he shifted his focus to raising his boys to be soldiers. (So literally just $100 for Sam’s account, then.) “Somewhere along the line I stopped being your father.” NO SHIT, JOHN.

Sam tells John that he used to think they were different, but after Jess died he’s wholly in the fight. They bond over their twin quests for revenge and when John reveals that he spent his boys’ college funds on ammunition, Sam laughs. What a Hallmark moment! Dean returns with dead man’s blood, and they get to work.

That night, Dean gets dangled out as bait: the dude-in-distress bending over a “broken-down” Impala. I just. Can’t even. With this show.

Kate finds him and they trade witty banter. She also kisses him which…. Excuse me, I’m going to stare into the middle distance for a while, grinding my teeth.

Arrows thwack into the vampires’ chests just in time, I guess? The dead-man’s-blood soaked arrows start to leach into their system, slowing them down. The Winchesters capture Kate, and kill the second vampire.

Sam confronts John about his plan to get the Colt and then scuttle away from his sons again. “You can’t treat us like this. Like children.”

“That’s crap,” Dean calls out John. “You know what Sammy and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can’t be that worried about keeping us safe.” John’s got to do the hunt ALONE! It’s the only way!

Back with the vamp family, Luther learns about the hunters who’ve captured Kate (and severed their first head).

Luther zeroes in on John’s truck, tearing down the highway. He can tell that Kate’s inside it. And sure enough, Kate starts to wake up next to John. The vamp squad pursues the truck.

At the barn, Sam and Dean break in to confront the lone, possibly drunk vampire. It’s time to go antiquing! ALSO Dean Winchester breaks out the blood prisoners. “I told you I’d come back!” Readers, I love him.

With the vamps, John demands a trade: the Colt for Kate. He almost gets the Colt, but Kate overpowers him, knocking him out. It looks like the end for John Winchester EXCEPT an arrow thwacks into a vampire out of nowhere. Cue triumphant music, for it’s Sam and Dean Winchester to the rescue! Sam gets captured in the fight, and John blows one of the Colt’s precious bullets right into Luther’s forehead. The vampire dies in slow motion dramatic glorious fashion.

Jenny takes off to - APPARENTLY - live on in infamy on the back end of the show. John tells his kids that they are, in fact, stronger as a family. It’s time to hunt the demon together! Aw, bonding time!

Buffy the Vampquote Slayer:

Vampires? I thought there was no such thing

Revenge isn't worth much if you end up dead

We’re stronger as a family

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #JENNY #spn 1x20 #dean man's blood #supernatural season 1

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 4 years

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Final Fantasy prompts no 52

1. Cloud getting swarmed by orphans who proceed to put make up on him, Tifa, and Yuffie.

When they are "revealed" to eachother, Cloud asks, "Am I pretty?" With a blank face and monotone voice.

2. Clouds reaction to different people saying, "I have a crush on you"

That exact phrase. No other wording or phrases.

3. #2 but its everyone in AVALANCHE saying this to Cloud one at a time, once a day.

Example: Yuffie on Tuesday, Tifa on Wednesday, Barret on Thursday, etc.

This is because they were trying a misguided attempt at making Vincent comfortable enough to actually confess.

When Vincent does confess, however, Cloud doesn't believe him. Oops.

4. Palmer was being a prick again. Ever since the "Incident" in the conference room when they discovered Sephiroths...relationship...with laser pointers, Palmer had been sneaking them in and teasing the poor man with them.

Scarlett had been the most recent victim, having the small red dot travel across her breasts without her knowledge. When she noticed the general staring at her cleavage, a whole host of questions flittered threw her mind, the most prominent being, "Am I about to get laid?"

By the time she noticed the dot it was too late. Catboy pounced.

Her last thought before she was squished by hard muscle and leather was "Oh, no."

Later, there was a mysterious surge in people writing fanfiction about Sephiroth pouncing on people...

5. Cloud chunking a ceramic vase full of catnip grass at Sephiroths head and yelling, "Happy birthday, asshole!"

6. Yuffie often observed how cat-like Cloud was, and just never questioned it.

Years later when Tifa says something about it, Yuffie was like, "You guys never noticed? He's always been like that."

Additionally, Vincent trailing his fingers through Clouds hair as the blond rests his head in the gunman lap. All was well and good until Cloud began purring in his sleep.

He wasn't sure what to do with this information.

7. Time traveler Cloud lands in the Shinra building and immediately gets spotted. He fights his way down with First Tsurugi until he's confronted by a familiar mop of spikey blond hair.

He has a blond moment of, "Oh, that's me. Oh- I'm shooting at myself. Lovely." He then proceeded to kidnap his younger self, much to Zacks dismay.

Now Cloud has Zack, Sephiroth, and two people he doesn't know hunting him like a wild animal.

It doesn't help that his past self is uncooperative

8. Zack as the hero instead of Cloud.

They made it to Midgar, but Cloud remained in a coma at 7th heaven. There was even a big rescue scene where he woke up and saved Marlene when the plate fell. Everyone thinks they're dead, but they find refuge with Elmira after AVALANCHE leaves Midgar.

Zack being referred to as "puppy" by Sephiroth in the same way Cloud is referred to as "puppet"

Also, Zack with green cat eyes

9. A group of scientists working under a mysterious organization managed to obtain samples of Clouds DNA, thus managing to revive the SOLDIER program.

But they made a mistake.

Cloud was made using large amounts of S and J-cells. Cells that mutated and changed him. He feels the new SOLDIERs as they change, as they are reborn. He feels them as they come alive with his cells, senses them like blinking lights on a sonar. The pull of REUNION has never been this strong before, but strangely, the blond didn't feel drawn anywhere.

When he first saw them he knew. He knew immediately what had happened and what the scientists had done, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had babies and they needed him.

Needed their Mother

And so Gaia cries for another twisted hero

10. Someone from the Silver Elite writes romantic fanfiction of Sephiroth and Genesis and it starts a shipping war with people writing fanfiction about their favorite pairings.

A particularly...mature... piece of romantic high fantasy fanfiction involving himself and some blond named Cloud actually makes it to Sephiroth and he reads it.

He admittedly becomes curious of, "The pretty little fae" that has a solid hold on a significant amount of people in the Silver Elite.

Too bad the blond is avoiding him, like the plague and blushing as red as a beet the moment he sees him. He must have read something the fangirls made.

(Its funnier if you add time traveler AC Cloud but cuter if its CC Cloud. Idk which one I like better)

11. Angeal tries to teach CC Zack and Cloud how to build a bookshelf.

Cloud does pretty good, but Zack...actually, Angeal isn't sure what that is.

Zack called it art, so they were gonna go with that.

That's how they spent the rest of the evening, making wierd art that makes people stare in wonder and confusion.

12. Time travel shenanigans where Genesis's Jenova powers interfere with Clouds and now all the SOLDIERS that were in the Shinra tower with them when it happened have been turned into catboys.

It doesn't really change anything. It's still business as usual, just with a few extra appendages.

Angeal, who wasn't there at the time, has to muffle his laughter everytime he sees his friends.

It doesn't help that the company is pushing for Sephiroth to do a commercial showing off his new assets.

AC Cloud escaped and is on the run, but it's so much harder to blend in when you have cat ears on your head 24/7. Maybe he could wear a hat, but he wasn't sure what to do about the tail.

13. You remember that part in advent children where those monsters came out of the shadows that the remnants sent after Cloud?

Yeah, Cloud can do that. Not the, "summon eldrich monsters" thing, though he can probably do that too. I mean the "sinking into your own shadow to travel at high speeds/ through cracks in walls".

He finds this out by getting out of bed and falling into his shadow and slinking around like that until someone notices him.

He can't speak, so Barret and the others think the little shodow thing ate their blond friend or something.

Cloud is so frustrated and confused from being stuck in his shadow. Poor guy.

14. Gang leader Cloud x Mafia boss Sephiroth

15. Au where most things are the same, but Cloud and Sephiroth are both demons.

Sephiroth was raised in Shinra and frequently studies his dead race, believing he is the last of his kind and these books were all that were left of his people.

Then he found Cloud, who hated him on sight. As it turns out, Sephiroth is from the Cresent family. A clan of notoriously powerful and cruel demons with silver hair. What's worse is that the man was from the Strife clan, his family's enemy.

They had been at war for eons, with the Cresent family often becoming infatuated or obsessed with a Strife. They even had a phrase, which translated to, "Little song bird, you would look so pretty in a cage"

Needless to say the blond wanted nothing to do with him. So naturally, Sephiroth kidnapped him.

Demon Vincent is kind of there in the background, hiding himself like a smart person and watching over his blond friend and his deceased lover Lucricia's nephew. He allows most things, but ninjas his way in when he feels things are going too far.

#cloud strife #sephiroth #sefikura #vincent valentine #zack fair #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #yuffie kisaragi #ff7 #sephiroth+x+cloud #ff7 prompts #ff7 story prompts #prompts #story prompts #final fantasy story prompts #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy 7 #writing fanfiction about writing fanfiction

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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Planet of Dinosaurs

This movie is blessed with some pretty cool stop-motion dinosaurs and absolutely nothing else, and it’s got a Rifftrack. That’s… that’s it, really. Press play.

The spaceship Odyssey suffers a reactor meltdown and blows up with only just enough warning for the crew to launch a single lifeboat shuttle. Luckily, there’s a life-bearing planet nearby where the spandex-suited survivors can land, but unluckily, it turns out to be inhabited by giant reptiles, not unlike the prehistoric fauna of Earth! There’s also a spider the size of a Yorkshire terrier, for no particular reason.

There’s not really any plot from there, it’s just bad actors shooting toy laser guns at plastic dinosaurs, interspersed with Rock Climbing. At last the characters manage to kill the inevitable T-rex that’s been threatening them, whereupon they declare themselves to have conquered this planet.

There are a few attempts at human conflict but they’re pretty watery. The first possible b-plot has to do with the vice president of the space-shipping company, Mr. Baylor, who was along on this trip for some reason and is among the survivors. So they’re not just stranded on Dinosaur Planet, they’re stranded on Dinosaur Planet with their boss. He’s a jackass and his secretary quickly gets fed up with him and quits, which doesn’t do her a whole lot of good since they are, as I mentioned, stranded on Dinosaur Planet. The writers run out of things to do with Baylor about halfway through the movie and kill him off, to everybody’s relief.

The second involves the bearded guy, Jim, who’s starting to take issue with Captain Lee’s command style. Lee is trying to keep them all alive and uninjured until help can arrive. Jim doesn’t think help is coming and wants to go full caveman and start slaughtering things. It starts to look like he’s gonna foment a mutiny, but eventually he and Lee overcome their differences and come up with a plan to kill the T-rex.

Finally, of course, the survivors inevitably pair off in heterosexual couples. Sure is lucky there weren’t more men than women or vice-versa. Very fortunate nobody’s left with no-one to bone but someone they’ve never gotten along with. Quite improbable that nobody on the entire command crew was gay. When one member of one of these couples becomes a dinosaur victim, the other thoughtfully dies a few scenes later, not because he commits suicide out of guilt or something, but just by coincidence.

One thing the movie actually does pretty well is day-for-night. It’s not great, in that you can still tell it was shot in the daytime through a filter, but they chose the right filter to cool down the warm tones of the sunlight, and had the sense to keep the sky out of shot. It never looks like somebody just turned the brightness on your screen way down and called it ‘night’, and I’ve seen so much worse that I want to at least acknowledge their competence.

The other thing Planet of Dinosaurs does well is the actual dinosaurs, which are a lot of fun. They’re lumpy and out of date, but some real care seems to have gone into building the detailed puppets and their movements are fluid and sometimes very lifelike. There’s a nice variety of them, too. As well as the T-rex there’s a smaller therapod that might be intended to be an Allosaurus, a couple of little Ornithomimus-like animals, a Brontosaurus complete with the wrong head, a Stegosaurus, a Centrosaurus, and some kind of ankylosaur. In real life these are a jumble of Hell Creek and Morrison dinosaurs who never met each other, but eh, it’s supposed to be another planet, it’s cool.

Unfortunately, there are several points where the effects people try to show us something they probably should have implied instead. I commend their ambition, but knowing your limits is a big part of making special effects work. In the first episode of Walking with Dinosaurs, the Postosuchus attacks a Placerias… but we don’t see as much of this as we think we do because our view is blocked by the body of the prey animal. They knew their CGI wasn’t up to making the attack look good, so they tricked us into thinking we saw more than we did. In Planet of Dinosaurs, a character stabs an injured Ornithomimus with a spear, and it’s painfully obvious that the stop-motion creature was just superimposed on top. They could easily have set up the shot so we didn’t have to actually see it go in, but they didn’t.

The dinosaurs are clearly what they spent their budget on, which was wise – as I said in my review of Twelve to the Moon, if you can only afford to show us one cool thing, best make it the one in the title. Sadly, when I say spent the budget I mean the entire budget. The rest of Planet of Dinosaurs looks like it was made in somebody’s backyard using stuff from the garden shed. The spaceship that briefly appears in the opening had a previous career as a vacuum cleaner. When it ‘explodes’ it just flickers red and vanishes with no further attempt at an effect.

The costumes look kind of like if they made the original Star Trek series ten years later but on the same budget, with producers who didn’t think they wanted this to be a porno but preferred to keep the option open. The designated Himbo, Chuck, doffs his shirt within the first few minutes of the film and never gets it back. The blonde who goes for a swim and is eaten by some water monster was wearing a bikini under her uniform for some reason. By the end, they’re all dressed in cartoon caveman garb and Chuck is still shirtless.

Besides the dinosaurs, the main effect we see is the laser guns, which are among the most ineffective sci-fi weapons ever committed to screen. They fire a beam of very slow red light which does absolutely nothing to any of the dinosaurs, even when the characters observe that one has been injured. I think this is supposed to show us that the animals are tougher than the technology, but for that to work we would have needed to see a laser used effectively, perhaps to destroy something blocking the path. Without that, we have no basis for comparison.

If this were all Planet of Dinosaurs did wrong, it would be a bad movie classic. Even the abysmally bad acting has its funny moments. What ruins the enjoyment is the movie’s lack of a proper story.

Planet of Dinosaurs is supposed to be a Cast Away or Robinson Crusoe sort of a film, about unprepared people thrust into the wilderness and forced to survive as best they can. Such a narrative doesn’t need an overarching conflict per se. It can be a series of smaller survival stories strung together, but Planet of Dinosaurs doesn’t manage to do that. The ‘plot’ with Baylor depends on him being a petulant fool, and the characters are not sufficiently well-developed for us to have any interest in the ‘love stories’ that don’t affect the overall course of events.

The rivalry between Captain Lee and Bearded Guy Jim turns on how to keep the rest of the survivors safe from the large predators in the area, particularly the T-rex. Lee wants everybody to hole up on a rocky plateau behind a ridiculously flimsy stockade to keep the animals out, while Jim wants to hunt down and kill the dinosaurs, to teach them to fear humans as wolves do on Earth. The main problem with this is that we just don’t see enough of the predatory dinosaurs to justify this treatment of them.

We see the T-rex fairly early in the film, and it fuels the humans’ decision to see high ground where they hope such a large animal will not go. The much smaller Allosaurus shows up at one point to make a woman scream, is ‘injured’ with a laser, and the T-rex then eats it. And just before the climax, the T-rex breaks through the stockade to chow down on Baylor’s secretary. In between these incidents, we do not see and rarely even hear about these animals. If we’re supposed to imagine them constantly lurking around outside, the movie makes no effort to reinforce that impression. The T-rex is treated as the Final Boss, but the movie just hasn’t earned that.

At the end we see the survivors a few years later. They’re building a farm, making their own clothes, living off the land, and raising their children. One of the women asks the other if she thinks they’re ever going to be rescued, and the other replies that she doesn’t think it matters anymore. The implication is that they’re now happy here. This is really not a bad little denouement, and ends the movie on a warm, optimistic note.

If you want to see some ridiculous 70s mustaches and ugly 70s dinosaurs, you’ll probably have fun with Planet of Dinosaurs. Unfortunately, the movie was a little too ambitious in some places and not ambitious enough in others. If I’d seen it at the age of six I probably would have become immediately obsessed with it for the dinosaurs alone, but as an adult I’m afraid my standards are just a little too high. Unable to afford to be good, and unable to commit to being bad, it’s just another meh.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #planet of dinosaurs #rock climbing #70s #dinosaurs make everything better

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songofclarity · 3 years

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You're one of the very few Wen Ruohan fans I've encountered! I am super curious as to your thoughts on how your version of Wen Ruohan (polite, restrained, incredibly powerful but misled by those around him, ruthless but not outright evil) correlates with some of the novel passages about him being cruel, fond of torture, etc. (1/3)

(Passage 1) The QishanWen Sect’s leader, Wen RuoHan, had a moody, violent personality. He loved the sight of blood and sometimes took enjoyment in torturing those that offended him. Jin GuangYao was only able to capture Wen RuoHan’s interest by catering to his needs, making all sorts of cruel yet amusing devices (Passage 2) The “Fire Palace” was Wen RuoHan’s playground. It was where he collected thousands of torture devices for tormenting people (2/3)

At least for me, those passages were the basis of my reading him as being fond of torture and hurting people and such, so finding your contrary view was really cool. Is your view that those are biased descriptions, given that the novel is told from close-point-of-view for Wei Wuxian (who obviously had reason to dislike Wen Ruohan!)? Or do you incorporate those aspects into Wen Ruohan in some other way? I love your fics & meta a lot; if you don't want to answer, feel free to ignore. Thanks! (3/3)

No one is more surprised that I became a Wen RuoHan fan more than me, Anon!! Thank you for the ask, it makes me really happy that you’re curious about it and that you’re giving me an opportunity to talk about him LOL Although I do politely protest to it being called my version of Wen RuoHan...! I promise you, I'm not trying to make this characterization up out of thin air to suit my whims. The reason I've grown to like him is because I started paying closer attention to him and what I found made him rather more interesting and likeable compared to when I first read the novel with a focus on Wei WuXian and co.

MDZS is all about differentiating between what we see and what we are told. Spoken rumors vs recognized truths are important plot devices. We are told at the very start of the novel that Wei WuXian, the Yiling Patriarch, was this horrible and monstrous person who slaughtered thousands without any remorse. He was a terrible, dastardly demonic cultivator and the entire cultivation world breathes with relief now that he's gone, because what a terror that man was! How sad for his poor Shijie and Shidi that they ever met him! Mo XuanYu summons him with the explicit belief that Wei WuXian is indeed this malicious, heartless ghoul who will torture and slaughter the Mo family in cold blood for his revenge.

And what's Wei WuXian's response to that? "You've got the wrong person..." (Ch. 2, ERS).

Now, we see firsthand evidence that shows why people would think Wei WuXian is this kind of monster. We see him torture and mutilate Wen Chao, we hear about the leagues of corpses he raises to fight in the Sunshot Campaign, we see the violence that erupts both times at Qiongqi Path, and we see the massacre at Nightless City when he goes off the rails. His motivations and circumstances aside, this is the work of a villain. He’s terrifying! Taking his motivations and circumstances into account, however, I don't think anyone would accuse him of being moody and violent and loving to torture even though we see him being moody and violent and torturing his victim with a lot of malicious satisfaction. It takes a certain kind of someone to force their victim to eat their own flesh, after all.

By comparison, we never even see Wen RuoHan being violently moody or enjoying the sight of blood or even engaging in torture. I wrote several paragraphs going scene by scene that made this reply a mile long that I have cut out, because the short explanation is that what we have here are descriptions of a person we never encounter, not even when he has his son's murderer under his foot and at his mercy. By all means, like Wei WuXian to Wen Chao, Wen RuoHan is at least justified in killing Nie MingJue for killing Wen Xu. Wen RuoHan even asks to confirm that he has the right man (and would someone who likes torture and blood even care?). But then he... doesn't kill him. And then he turns down an offer to torture Nie MingJue as well. Considering Wei WuXian hunted Wen Chao down for the opportunity to torture him, Wen RuoHan not even wanting to take what is offered him on a silver platter is in direct conflict with the report that torture is his favorite pastime.

And this conflict isn’t accidental. It’s done on purpose for a specific reason.

What's interesting about those two passages you picked is that they are both post-Sunshot condemnations of Wen RuoHan's character. Wen RuoHan is very dead and unable to defend his reputation after the Sunshot Campaign. His Wen remnants are very much being tortured and abused by the Jin who sing about how they are the good guys even as they beat Wen Ning to death. Jin GuangYao has all the reasons in the world to turn Wen RuoHan from a basic antagonist into a sadistic monster in order to cover up his own crimes, because there is no rational way Jin GuangYao can possibly reconcile saying, “I had no choice” with Wen RuoHan telling him, “Do as you please” (Ch. 49, ERS).

Because those two passage you identified which characterize Wen RuoHan are provided by the only person who survived Nightless City and is given a voice: Jin GuangYao. Jin GuangYao who used and murdered Wen RuoHan for political gain in order to get fame and his father’s attention. Jin GuangYao has no reason or desire to let Wen RuoHan have a fair trial, and certainly the cultivation world is not interested in a sympathetic take of the man who led the Wen Sect.

The mural painting Jin GuangYao has done on the stairs at Koi Tower show him murdering Wen RuoHan. Note how it’s the expression on Jin GuangYao's face, and not anything to do with Wen RuoHan, that makes Wei WuXian feel uneasy. It's because the Wen Sect as a whole are demonized that the Jin Sect is able to get away with becoming far, far worse. Jin GuangYao depicts himself as a hero slaying a monster, and it is in that manner he is able to go over a decade becoming a true tyrant whose crimes dwarfed any of Wen RuoHan's misdeeds.

Rather than only listen to Jin Sect, who had a very obvious complex toward the Wen Sect, we should at least pay attention to the people who actually treated Wen RuoHan like a person rather than like a stepping stone. In which case we must look to Wen ZhuLiu!

[Wen ZhuLiu] was protecting Wen Chao under Wen RuoHan's orders. He'd never liked Wen Chao's character to begin with. Yet, there were no worst circumstances, but only worse circumstances. Wen Chao ordered him to come protect Wang LingJiao. The woman was not only shallow and conceited but also cruel at heart, gaining much dislike from him. However, no matter how much he didn't like her, he couldn't go against Wen RuoHan and Wen Chao's orders and kill her. (Ch. 58, ERS)

Look at the personalities Wen ZhuLiu does not like. Wen Chao is arrogant and lecherous. Wang LingJiao is, explicitly stated, conceited, shallow, and cruel at heart. Wen ZhuLiu dislikes Wang LingJiao so much that he would kill her if he could!

Remember that Wen ZhuLiu picked following Wen RuoHan on his own. He picked his own master because he liked him in some manner. Before the Wen Sect fell, it was hugely popular with guest cultivators and Wen RuoHan is at the center of all that. Would Wen ZhuLiu pick a heartless master who behaved like Wen Chao or Wang LingJiao? All signs point to no. So it's safe to say that:

Wen RuoHan is not arrogant or lecherous

Wen RuoHan is not conceited or shallow.

Wen RuoHan is not cruel at heart.

And if Wen RuoHan is not cruel at heart, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to enjoy torturing people like the rumors say. And I think we have more reasons to trust Wen ZhuLiu than Jin GuangYao or the Jin Sect on this.

#anon #asked from above #wen ruohan #mdzs thoughts #mdzs quotes #somehow being called a wrh fan makes me feel so exposed lol #idk if i actually answered your question properly anon #i feel like i went off track #but i will say that for my fic i do incorporate some of the rumor for drama purposes #although the reveals will hopefully be a satisfying component

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va-3 · 3 years

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Part I

Second Half of my OC’s Information (the photo limit screwed me over)

The 1930s through the 1970s in Taika’s past is still a work in progress as well as the art soooo...probably a part three in the future?

Taika and Raspberry move to California the fall of 1986, although Raspberry finds a more permenant residence in Los Angeles while Taika finds herself on a more wandering path.

In the February of 1987 Taika wandered upon the town of Santa Carla, a town given credit for being home to those who wanted to disappear.

[side note: the jacket and jeans would be colored if only my damn markers hadn’t died]

Taika, a delinquent at heart as always, fit in like a puzzle piece. The punk-graffiti day life appealed to her like any adventure, and the smell of vampires lured her further into the town. She “cleared” a house (the act of killing the owners of a house and taking it for herself) as well as the garage. Taika acquired a 1987 Yamaha Virago via a rich douchebag she easily stole from and offed.

When the nightlife glowed at the boardwalk, it was apparent to the Santa Carla vampires that something was off, although they could not place it.

Taika did not make contact with the vampires for a while, seeming to distance herself just enough to make them curious about the uneasiness on the boardwalk since her arrival. Every now and then a body would turn up, a person snatched into an alleyway and partially eaten. It wasn’t until David met eyes with Taika across the boardwalk that it was clear to the Santa Carla vampires that there was another predator on their territory.

Taika’s aggressiveness and competitiveness are what pull the boys in first, that along with her scent, so much more intoxicating than any other human. A sort of playful rivalry grows between the calta and the vampires—who could last longer making trouble on the boardwalk without getting kicked off by Big Ed, who could score the biggest bonfire of surf nazis, and so on.

In the end it was Marko and Paul who put an end to the rivalry. Dwayne hadn’t thought he’d be able to really approach Taika and David was too prideful to do so. So the chaotic blonde duo took it upon themselves to invite her back to their cave as an act of trust as well as cease fire. David, no matter his pride, was quick to share about the fallen hotel made theirs. She was quick to catch on to the fact that they had been vampires much longer than they appeared. Dwayne brought it to her attention that she clearly knew what they were while they handn’t a single idea what she was.

With that question being asked, she explains what she is, and from there, their trusting relationship grows. The first time they hunt together is remotely terrifying to the vampires, considering she is a monster made for hunting them as well as other supernatural creatures.

The relationship between the boys and Taika blooms into something deeper, though it isn’t apparent to any of them at all at first. It was just small things they realized they loved about her, and her them. They fall in love with her odd little quirks, like how she always has change on her because it’s “shiny and distracting”, or how she’ll braid tiny braids into her hair and sometimes to boys’ hair, or how she makes beautifully delicate carvings out of the bones of their victims, or buys(steals) stuff for the cave while they all sleep, or organizes whatever she can anytime she comes the to cave, and really really likes coconut shrimp.

She steals the boy’s clothing whenever she leaves the cave during the day after a night of events, not that any of them complain. Marko’s crop tops are always her go to, while she wears Paul’s jewelry out and sometimes jeans that Dwayne doesn’t wear anymore. Sometimes Taika and David switch earrings, only because David is hesitant to give her any of his current clothing,. When he finds that he is more possesive of her than he’d openly admit, he gives her extra shirts of his to keep. Taika loves how the vampires smells mask her own; not only is it comforting, but it protects her from any lurking sevren(a post for another time).

Taika only needing three hours of sleep allows her to have a day life of her own, one that tends to breed chaos. Sometimes she’ll go surfing, something she’s become quite adept at, and show up the surf nazis on their own territory. Taika is the only member of the “biker gang” that the surfers ever see during the day, so they let out a lot of their aggression on her because they’re truly too cowardly to face the boys and her head on. The biggest mistake the surfers ever made was the day they decided it’d be humorous to steal her bike in broad daylight. She’d parked her bike(albeit illegally) on the boardwalk when she got to the beach, and when she returned later that day her bike was gone. Needless to say the surfers had invoked the wrath of someothing stronger than them on supernatural levels.

The boys knew something was up the instant they walked into the caves main area to find Taika waiting patiently at the exit. The only tthing she said was she needed a ride, one David gave happily. When the vampires had parked their bikes and Taika had muttered some words of reassurance to fill in her silence, she made a beeline for the carousel, following the ocean-spray smell of the asshole who’d taken her bike. He was standing in line with an arm draped over a girl who couldn’t have looked more trashy, his friends jostling one another as the line moved along. The four vampires followed behind the taller predator, their curiosity evident as they formed a half-crescent around her when she stopped. Taika was quick to clamp her arm onto the girl under the surfer and yank her out of the way, sending her flying onto her butt. Taika was mad, like, really mad. She hooked her hand into the collar of the surfers shirt, ignoring his protest when she yanked him to her.

“Where is it,” she hissed, putting forth minimal effort to keep herself from biting his face off in public. Marko watched in excitement, his thumb between his teeth as his eyes found the surfer’s. This guy was screwed. He raised his hands in surrender and feigned innocence, “Hey, I don’t know what your deal is lady, but I don’t know nothin about anything.”

His friends snickered behind Taika, clearly enjoying how angry they had made her. She narrowed her wild purple eyes, running her tongue over her teeth.

“Where’s my goddamn bike,” she demanded, her voice like ice down his spine. The vampires watched on, looking about occasionally to make sure Big Ed wouldn’t poke his nose where it didn’t belong. His friends burst into laughter again, shoving one another giddily. Taika had half the mind to throw the surfer in her hands at them like a bowling ball at pin, but she repressed her urges.

“You can make this easy or you can make it hard. Give my my bike and I won’t have to kill you.” He pressed his hands to the sides of his face and made a noise imitating a ghost. She stilled, silently in thought for a moment before she scoffed and let go of his shirt.

“Fine. I’ll find it myself. Boys,” she turned sharply on her heel and marched towards her vampires, hooking her hand into Dwayne’s in a way that was supposed to be gentle, but she was too mad. Paul slipped his hand into her back pocket and matched her pace.

“Yeah, run to your queers.”

The boys would swear on their lives that they’d never seen her spin around and tackle someone as fast as she tackled that surfer. He was in the ground in seconds, and Taika was planting hit after hit, taking the few blows he managed to land on her ribs like they were nothing. The surfers friends sprang into action, attacking the boys as well as trying to pry Taika from the much bigger surfer. The surfer’s face was bleeding all over, and he was fighting to stay awake. Taika wanted blood. Her bike’s absence was a small inconvenience that ensured a meal later that night, but the insult to her boys was a direct blow at her. They could trash talk her straight to her face, insult her, whatever made them feel powerful, but no one, no one, says anything about her boys. At last, she was whacked across the face by the baton belonging to Big Ed. The blow stunned her if anything, although she fell to the side and off of the offending surfer. Paul and Marko were quick to her side, helping her to her feet while also readying to catch her if she tried lunge out at the bleeding prick on the ground. “Off the boardwalk. All of you! Now!”

David was beaming with pride as Taika walked to him and Dwayne, wiping the surfers’ blood from her lip. The surfers backed from the bikers as they walked forwards, parting away from them to avoid Taika who walked in front, acting as an active threat to anyone who dared to even think about opposing them. When the five were clear of the crowd, Paul looped his arms around Taika and pulled her in for a smacking kiss. “That was awesome babe. Like, so fucking awesome.”

She burst into laughter, dropping her head onto his chest.

“Hell yeah it was,” added Marko, yanking her to him and spinning her like they were dancing. “I’m like two-hundred percent sure that guy pissed himself!”

Marko and Paul exchanged a highly energetic high-five, feeling the energy of the fight reigniting itself. Dwayne silently pulled her into him and kissed her forehead.

“Good to know you care, kitten,”at David’s words she beamed. Dwayne released her, and she bounced towards David, latching onto the lapels of his jacket. “I hope you know that I would do anything for you,” her sultry accent sent a delighted chill down his back. “All of you,” she sang, letting go of David’s jacket and spinning into Paul and Marko’s arms giggling like a school girl. From within the blond vampire sandwich, she raised her hand in the air to make a point. “Now, let’s go find my bike!”

The car belonging to the surfer who’d stolen Taika’s bike was found strung up in a junkyard the next day. The sight had been stupendous apparently, and ended up on the news. The owner of the car and his friends had a been absolutely delicious. After he’d returned Taika’s bike of course.

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nelllraiser · 3 years

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adventures in guilt | dave & nell

TIMING: shortly after nell summoned a shark-jellyfish demon. PARTIES: @seizethecarpe and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: dave returns the jacket nell forgot on the boat, and the two try to navigate a life with guilt. CONTENT: sibling death mentions.

Dave carefully folded down the coat over his arm, smoothing out the material idly. That wasn’t the full reason, the texture of the scales under his fingers was captivating, more interesting than anything else nearby. But this was the college campus, Dave wasn’t sure he would want to touch anything else, the risk of beer stickiness on everything was too damn high. It was drizzling, cool gusts biting the needles off of nearby trees and blowing them around the park bench. As unbothered as he was by the cold, Dave hated icy winds. The sooner the ‘caster showed up, the better. He waved at her when he spotted her, standing up from the bench. This’d be interesting.

Generally Nell didn’t come to campus this early. Her visits to the university mostly consisted of visits to her friends, and the occasional sleuthing for a bounty, but classes hadn’t even begun yet for the day. Thankfully she hadn’t overslept, because the witch hadn’t slumbered in the first place. With Bea gone to New York, the house was just herself and Luce, and far too much like it had been when their third sister had been struck down, existing only as a ghost. It made for restless nights that came more often than they already had, though Nell had managed to fill a good amount of them with work. As Dave came into sight, Nell felt the familiar sensation of guilt flooding her stomach, a feeling that hadn’t left her since the accidental deaths she’d caused— but one she’d learned how to manage in a way that allowed her to function rather than wallow. Unfortunately the sight of the selkie brought all the regrets of that day back the instant she set eyes on him, though she squared her shoulders in sheer refusal of letting them overwhelm her. Finally getting within speaking distance, she gave the man a nod before speaking. “Hey.” Shit, what else was she supposed to say? There had to be something else, right? “Thanks for keeping my jacket.”

“Wasn’t about to do anything else with it,” Dave said, handing it over, scrutinising her with a trademark scowl, that did little to show what he was really thinking. Somehow, she looked older now than the last time they’d met, and he knew how that kind of guilt could eat at someone’s youth in the worst possible ways. But he also knew that the younger you were, the more important it was to be able to hide that kind of shit, and he had no doubt that plenty of her younger friends didn’t see it at all. “You holding up alright?”

Under any other circumstance Nell might have jokingly asked about whether or not the jacket was his color, or if he’d sneaked one single try on. Nevermind the fact that she was fairly certain he wouldn’t even be able to get his arm into the sleeves of the tiny jacket. Instead, she just accepted the jacket wordlessly before layering it over the sweater she was already wearing. Yet another thing she hadn’t inherited along with her lack of fire abilities was the heightened body temperature that went along with it, and Nell was almost endlessly cold in the winters of Maine. His question caught her wholly off-guard, rather convinced that he still thought her some idiotic, and guitless spellcaster who didn’t know what she was doing, and didn’t care to think beyond that. Surprise flickered ever so briefly over her features before it was quickly replaced with a frown, and suspiciously drawn eyebrows. “I’m not the one who got eaten by a demon shark.” She wasn’t about to admit the truth to a man who’d witnessed one of her greatest mistakes when she barely admitted it to herself.

“No. But I know a thing or two about being eaten by guilt,” Dave replied slowly, like the words were being dragged out of him. That he knew he could offer her the comfort that people who hadn’t been there couldn’t. He still wasn’t convinced she deserved it. He wasn’t convinced power like that, the kind that was at once a tempest and could summon a tempest, ought to be allowed to live. But that sorta shit wasn’t his call to make, not unless she was deliberately slaughtering people. Hell, in a town like this, there was probably some sort of person who specialised in ‘casters.

Nell watched the man with a guarded gaze, as if trying to see below his exterior to see what secrets or well-hidden intentions were hidden underneath the apparent concern he was now exhibiting. Though even calling it concern might be a bit of a stretch. His words seemed reluctant— almost as unwillingly spoken as her reply was. “And you think that’s what’s happening to me?” Nevermind that it was the truth. Beyond her inability to properly express herself was the question of why he was bothering with her in the first place. WIth the way he’d reacted on the boat paired with his attempts to pin her against the railing- she’d thought he’d want to get in and out of this situation as quickly as possible.

“Don’t know. It’s why I’m asking. Doesn’t mean you gotta answer.” Dave replied with an off handed shrug tracing his fingers over the grain of the bench. The arm of the bench had been smashed off once or twice before, the wood was a different age to the age of the sea, but even still there was an unnerving stain deep inside the grain of the wood, that couldn’t quite be washed out no matter how hard the college tried. Dave knew a thing or two about that sort of stain, too. “Well,” he said after a moment, “If that’s all,” He eyed her, just the hint of softness buried in all his wrinkles. “I know how busy you young folk are. Wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“But...why do you care to ask?” Nell replied with another question, still not entirely willing to answer his question. There was still a wariness to her gaze, as if she were waiting for him to turn around and start yelling like he had on the boat. Why did he care whether the guilt was eating her alive or not? She couldn’t help shake the feeling that Dave was simply waiting to turn the tables once again, that he’d change his mind and cast her out just as easily as the coven and her parents had. He was right about her being busy, though. Between the demon cult, her bounty hunting, and potential new jobs she’d been kept running. Still...there was something making her want to linger despite her anxious certainty that nothing good would come of it. Perhaps it was the smallest hint of softness beneath his words, and the fact that she found so little of it these days. “What about you? You said you know about being eaten by guilt.”

“I can take the question back if it bothers you so,” Dave replied with a nonplussed lookin on his face, because the answer to her question was complicated as hell. “Sure do. Life as long and messy as mine, I got plenty to feel guilty for. Not summonin’ demon sharks, I’ll give you that, but enough messes with a body count, that’s for sure.” Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose. Grey clouds overhead were beginning to promise rain. He wasn’t about to share the nature and brunt of his messes, whether they were the sinking boat variety, victims of a monster Dave had failed to stop, or drowning someone who… it was probably not right to have drowned. “Just saying, storing that emotional stuff like a Molotov’s just gonna have it blow in your face. I’d know.”

“It doesn't bother me,” Nell commented defensively, even though the opposite was true. She just didn’t want to admit such a thing. Not to herself and certainly not to the man who’d already see too much of things she wanted to hide or forget. “Does my question bother you?” She posed the rebuttal as a means of trying to get the burden of explanation off herself, shifting it in Dave’s direction instead. The mention of a body count wasn’t something she’d expected from the selkie, and it was plain to see her curiosity had been piqued. Fortunately, she knew better than to ask for details at a time like this, but that didn’t stop her from asking another question. “Well then...what do you do with it?” Her tone was uncomfortable, arms folded defensively over her chest. She wasn’t fond of appearing weak in front of people she barely knew, or asking for help at all, but desperation was starting to get the better of her. Besides- maybe he would just think she was asking for someone else’s sake.

“No,” Dave replied honestly, eyebrows raised at her defensive demeanor, quietly letting her know that he could see just how reticent she was to talk about it. But he didn’t push again, getting ready to leave her to her coat and her guilt when she pried another question out of herself. Dave’s look was probably more understanding than she’d like, but he still sighed.

“Agh, hell,” Dave ran his hand through his hair, turning so he was side on to her when he leant against a nearby fence, his brows dipped deep in thought. For all his gentle cajoling, he wasn’t quite ready to open up to a stranger either. “Different things for different guilts. Some folks act like they never did anything wrong, bottle it up and continue on like nothing ever happened. Some folks spend a lifetime chasing a type of redemption that doesn’t exist, so they can do enough good to outbalance the bad, like it’s some cosmic scale they just gotta weigh up right. Hard to say which way leaves you more fucked up. Guess I deal with it with something in the middle. ‘M not a good person, but I can ensure I don’t make the same fuck ups as before. Focus on what keeps me going. If I face judgement after, I’ll have earned it.” He looked at her sidelong, trying to parse her reaction. “That answer your question?” As vague an answer as it was. There was no talking about the nights with angry outbursts, darker shades that he saw the world in, how quickly his mind twisted to the thought of solving issues by killing. He barely knew this girl, after all.

Nell still didn’t understand why he’d taken the time to answer her questions to begin with, constantly surprised when he continued to linger with her as they spoke. She was silent as she mulled over Dave’s words, trying to fit them into cracks that lived in her as a result of her own guilt. She knew redemption wasn’t an option, one good thing didn’t magically replace one bad. And ignoring her guilt had never been an option for her, not when she was much better at wallowing in it. “So what you’re saying is it doesn’t get any better,” Nell snorted somewhat derisively, but it was meant as a comment at her own expense rather than Dave’s. She was thankful for his words, even if they hadn’t necessarily filled her with hope. Her foot scuffed at the ground, still uncomfortable despite letting the clam shell of her emotional state open in the slightest. “I mean- thanks for answering. I guess it makes sense that you just gotta learn from it and then deal with it.” After all that had been her experience so far, hadn’t it? Something about not being a good person struck a nerve in her, and she couldn’t help but think of how close Adam’s guilt had gotten him to making a lifelong mistake. “I think trying to be better is at least...the mark of a decent person.” That was the closest she managed to get when it came to offering Dave an opinion on his judgement day.

"Wouldn’t say it doesn’t get easier with time,” Dave replied, tilting his head until his neck cracked, easing some of the tension this conversation was giving him. “More manageable, less raw. Easier to put these things in perspective. You’re still young, you’ve got time to figure out how you want to deal.” Even if it didn’t, Dave was always aware that when he talked to young adults about shit, they had so little framework for how much they still had time to change and grow that he didn’t want to say shit to stifle that. The surest way to keep someone the same was to tell them they had no chance of changing. He looked at her sidelong, the tiniest corner of a smile on his face. “I like to think so,” he replied, in a distant, hypothetical way. It wasn’t something he was interested in applying to himself.

He was right, technically. Nell was still young. But it felt like she’d been aged some fifteen years in that last twelve months alone. Being raised in White Crest meant she was more than familiar with its oddities and quirks, but she hadn’t remembered the little town being quite so emotionally destructive. Or maybe she’d just been too wrapped up in the swaddle of youth to experience it herself before she’d left, only to return after seeing how gruesome the rest of the world could be. For some naive reason she hadn’t expected it to follow her back home, but here she was with the literal scars along her arms and neck to prove otherwise. Her lips pursed as Dave refused to take part in her little charade of ‘asking for a friend’, feeling set off kilter when he addressed her and the guilt she held directly. “I never said I was talking about me,” she replied stubbornly as her face took on a somewhat petulant expression despite it being obvious that she’d been doing just that.

The beginning of his smile also caught Nell off-guard, and parts of why she’d found it so hard to believe that he could turn his anger from the boat around so quickly fell into place. She’d wanted him to be the persecutor, to tell her that she’d fucked up and confirm her as deserving of the guilt that lived in her chest like an iron set of chains. To give her the punishment she felt she deserved like her mother had done. The realization had her looking away from him, not wanting to give away any more emotion than she already had. “So you...what? Don’t have time to figure it out anymore?” For once her words weren’t meant as an old person joke at the expense of who she was asking. “Or have you just been letting it ‘get easier’ and put into perspective? And that’s the thing you’ve figured out?”

“Hmmm,” Came Dave’s noncommittal response, just looking at her sidelong. When she pouted like that, it was damn hard to remember that the girl was an adult who had gotten folk killed, not just a lost kid finding her way through the world. Which was what made her more dangerous.

“No. Just got bigger fish to fry.” It was a pact he’d made with himself a long damn time ago, as unhealthy as anything else on his list. He’d face his penance, whether that came at the end of a hunter’s knife or an Aipaloovik’s embrace. Dave knew damn well there were consequences to the choices he’d made over the past couple years, but that didn’t slow him down. He’d face it all, but only once the fury was dead, and he had his family’s pelts once more. He could carry the other, less important deaths he’d caused by choice or negligence or malice until that day. He was, in fact, doing just what he’d told Nell not to, letting a guilt define every part of him. “When it came down to it, I learned to carry what I needed to so that I could do what I had to. That’s all.”

“Yeah...yeah I get what you mean,” Nell mused as she thought back to the other times guilt had threatened to consume her. She’d gotten Bea killed. Watched her sister die because she’d been reckless and selfish, and hadn’t taken care of her problems properly. But even as that sickening knowledge had clawed away at her gut, she’d learned how to stomach it well enough to focus on bringing Bea back. Done what she needed to do...just like Dave had. Or at least it sounded that way. At this point she wasn’t sure what else there was to say, already feeling as if she’d said perhaps a little too much. “Anyway...thanks for the jacket.” Nell shrugged her shoulders to help it sit better on her shoulders as she stood and waited to see if Dave had anything else to say on the subject of guilt and otherwise.

“Sure,” Dave replied, noting the quick shut down of conversation with a wry smile. He straightened, shaking his head to work out any cricks as he began to turn to leave. “I know when I’ve been dismissed.” He began to walk away, before turning back to give her a stern look. “Don’t summon any more demon sharks, kid. I won’t be so nice next time.” Dave said, tapping the top of his head like he was tipping his cap to her. This time when he turned, he did not look back. Hell, he even whistled a tune he hadn’t been able to hear for 30 years.

#// don't look at me im emo and love dave #wickedswriting #ch:dave #adventures in guilt #sibling death tw #chatzy

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midnight-moonlight-and-mars · 3 years

Text

Beyond Wayward Part 2

Warnings: Mentions of (attempted) Suicide

Pairings: Eventual Dean x (___)!Reader (you’ll find out what that is later ;)

Tags: @(this could be you!)

A/N: This took forever but here you go. Also this is obviously AU. And if it goes far enough, the later seasons of the show as well as the ending

Check out my Masterlist here!

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The echoes of her footsteps on the floor rang through the halls of this godforsaken church… Breathless and in tears she ran. The clap of her shoes on the floor echoed throughout the empty and endless halls.

Looking back for a moment she realized the church was gone, and in its place was that monster. Y/n began running even faster now with her heartbeat ready to burst through her chest. The monster let out an ear-piercing screech before swinging its long arms down her back. Just as she felt it’s cold claws reach her spine, she woke up

Y/n jolted awake to the smell of takeout and the sound of discussion. It took a second for her body to adjust to her new surroundings. To her surprise, she was fully able to move her legs, and her skin was no longer numb from the long hours she spent in the rain. Speaking of rain, all of her clothes felt dry, even her hair. Y/n’s first thought was that she was safe and that it all must have been some sort of hallucination or dream. That’s when she remembered two strangers carrying her as she nearly bled to death.

At that realization, Y/n quickly sat herself up and scanned the room. Staring right back at her were those men, or at least she thought.

“Hey, there sleeping beauty! How are you feeling?” one of them said, setting his beer on the table and adjusting in his seat.

Y/n was never great with men, especially men who are strangers, and strangers she just watched kill a monster a foot taller than them. Although they seemed to be reasonable people she was wary of taking any chances…

Nice or not, Y/n felt extraordinarily self-conscious. She was in a torn wedding dress, unconscious in a motel room, with two men she just watched kill a monster, who seemed to have carried her into a car drove here and put her on their bed.

“You speak any English?” he continued.

Realizing she forgot to say anything she hurried to find the right words, but just ended up nodding instead.

“Right. Well, you took quite the fall back there, glad to see you’re still alive and in one piece.” the man said eyeing Y/n closely.

The other guy chimed in after him. “I guess we ought to introduce ourselves. I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. We’re hunters. When we found you, you were being chased by an evil spirit that we’ve been hunting in the past few days.”

“It was a spirit of niraasha, a.k.a. a spirit of despair. It feeds off of people’s pain, but it would just cripple or kill them if it manages to find the right person. By the looks of it, it seems you had plenty...”

Y/n felt heat flush her cheeks when he said that. It would make sense for that thing to be drawn to her. Honestly, she was extremely embarrassed. In midst of nearly ending her life, she finds herself fighting for it.

“What’s your name?” Sam asked.

“Y/n,” she said, voice still sore from all the screaming and heavy breathing.

When she talked it seemed to cut through the tension in the room. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Dean stood up and rummaged through a paper bag with what Y/n assumed was food.

“So Y/n, you hungry?”

Grabbing hold of the warm wad of foil that smelled amazing, Y/n found herself slowly being able to trust them. If they wanted to hurt her then they would have done so already, right?

As Y/n began unwrapping the rather large hamburger, she felt like there was a hole in her memory, or maybe something important she was forgetting. Y/n took a moment to think before remembering she was bleeding before, and rather profusely. Throwing the burger aside she quickly bunched up her dress to her thigh frantically searching for where the bleeding came from, and to make sure she was no longer losing blood.

To her confusion, any streams of blood from before were smudged and wiped, but there was no wound. Dean took notice of her visible confusion as she examined her legs and immediately knew what was wrong, but he did not know how he would explain it.

“Wasn’t I hurt? I could have sworn that thing scratched me...” she looked at Dean and Sam waiting for an explanation or them to say she was crazy, but they didn’t look too worried.

“Yeah, uh a friend of ours took care of that for you…” Dean quickly redirected the conversation. The reason you aren’t in a hospital right now is not only because you don’t have any injuries, but there are more of those things out there. That screeching you heard earlier was it telling its friends to join in on the action.” Dean handed Y/n their dad’s journal open to niraasha.

“If we left you at a hospital they would eventually find you. Each victim so far has been unique and had a specific trail that these things follow. The screeching wasn’t just a call to arms, it was your tag. It lets the others know everything they need to find you and what to look for.” Sam continued, trying to be as transparent as possible.

As much as Y/n appreciated that they saved her life, this was way too much. More of them? She barely escaped the last time! She thought of going home, but she didn’t have one anymore. Y/n had nothing to lose. What choice did she have?

“How do you plan on stopping all of them?” Despite her fear and anxiety overwhelming her, Y/n was determined to stop these monsters. If not for herself, then for the next victim.

“Well, we have to find them first. That’s where you come in. No matter how long or far we run they’ll find you, so for right now we let them come to us…”

Sam interrupted. “Are you sure you want to do this? We are asking you to risk your life here and it can’t be easy. If you’re unsure, that’s ok. We would completely understand.”

Y/n doubted herself for a moment. It wasn’t a matter of if she was up for it, but a matter of if she could do it. She had never even raised her voice before, how could she possibly do this? These guys have a lifetime of experience compared to a one-day accident. But she deserves this right? This is what she wanted. Or was it?

“What do you want me to do?”

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural #castiel #crowley

25 notes · View notes

stumacherstan · 4 years

Note

Hey if youre still taking monster requests, can we get a orc x reader where the reader is either a kumiho, a nixie, or a naga? Sorry if not and thank you if you can!

Orc x naga!Reader One-shot:

The forest was beautiful was as always. The lights scattered in between the trees. The birds were singing their melody to soothe any wandered and the inhabitants of the land. The sweet smell of trees and and suffocating pollin.

A loud booming of a newcomer disrupted the peace. The tall orc panted as he was running through the trees, as if he was escaping something. Orcs are usually strong and feared, hardly anyone tries to attack them. However if a group of people are rallied up, people tend to gang up. And unfortunately Orc’s tusks sell high in black markets.

The muscular orc, Wraog, was trying to lose the people behind him. He was just trying to get the next closest village for his people who need a certain plant to heal the ongoing sickness that was going on. He was already tired of 3 days of walking and didn’t have the strength to fight off a group of mages. Wraog was slowly getting lost himself, forgetting trees and saw himself trapped between wilderness and a cave.

“You’re trapped now Orc, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way.” A sleazy voice called out to him, almost too smug for comfort.

“It doesn’t matter really, we’ll try to make it painless. Choose the easy way.” Another light aired voice, as if they weren’t going to saw off his tusks and cut his hair.

Wraog saw 3 other people emerge and he didn’t know how big the cave was. He quickly grabbed his dagger and got into a fighting position. “You can try it, but I won’t go down without a fight.”

“Ah so the hard way it is, I was hoping for this. I was getting bored of easy targets.” The once again annoying sleazy voice said.

Meanwhile, you were napping in your cave. A whole day of picking herbs for your tea and drinking in the sunlight on top of your cave. It was a productive day and you fed a couple days ago. Life was great. Peace was yours. Then it wasn’t.

You felt the ground beneath you tremor which woke you up from your slumber. You groaned and strained your ears to detect anything. You heard voices and curiosity was caught on the hook. You slowly slithered out, but not enough to be seen, to see what was going on. You cringed at the whole commotion, lowlife hunters ganging up on another victim. You hated weaklings that felt hunting in numbers were better.

You saw the whole fight go down and the orc was slowly losing no matter how much he countered. You normally didn’t care too much about others, as you only had to take care of yourself to survive. But they were on your territory and you had time to spare.

You quickly striked out and grabbed one with your tail and slammed them down on the dirt. You grabbed one that was on the orc’s back and bit into his arm, ejecting some venom that was gonna hurt for weeks. “You’re all dissssturbing my sssssleep!” You hissed out.

“Holy shit, a naga. We’re in luck! Get them!”

However they were outnumbered by the strength of an awoken naga and an orc. You both quickly defeated them. They had to run off with their numbers dwindled.

You spit on the dead and shook your head. “I hate mages. Little shitheadssss.” You looked up at the slightly beat up Orc. “I don’t really care in particular, but are you okay?”

Wraog’s legs shook and he fell onto the floor, clearly tired. As any normal being would after trying to fight off five mages by themselves.

“Hey! Get up!!” You shouted at him. You poked his side and groaned. “I guess I’ll take care of you,” you grumbled. You heaved and grabbed him by the legs, you started trudging in your cave. “By the stars, you’re so,,, heavy!”

You finally got him inside and wiped your forehead if any sweat. You got a rag and wet it with well water and cleaned his dirtied faced, rinsed the rag in a bucket, and soaked it in clean water once again. “You poor thing, never seen a orc almost be defeated.” You uttered softly as you placed the wet rag on his forehead.

You quickly cleaned up any of his wounds and fed the starving fire in your cave. You checked him once again just to make sure there wasn’t any other harm done and went into your corner of bedding to pick out a warm blanket to put over him. “Sleep well big one.”

Wraog’s purple eyes burst open. A wonderful smell of stew lowed into his nostrils like a sweet dance. He groaned as he sat up. “Where am I?” The slightly moist rag fell onto his lap, he picked it up and inspected it.

“A ssssimple thank you would ssssuffice,” you answered. You stirred the cauldron and added little pinches of seasoning. It was already done but you were adding finishing touches.

“Oh, you’re the one who helped me.” His eyes traveled down to your tail and widened in surprises. Usually Nagas were selfish creatures and kept to themselves. “Thank you very much, I’m Wraog.”

“I’m (Y/N).” You got out a bowl. “It was really no problem, someone had to teach those poachers a lesson at some point.” You poured the stew into a bowl and handed it to him as well as a glass of water.

He sloppily smiled at you, tusks in the way and all, and grabbed the bowl and glass. “I very much appreciate this.” He slowly ate since he wanted to savor it.

“May I asssk why you were in the foressst?”

“I was trying to get to the next village as mine own has been struck by a sickness. I don’t know the herbs name but I have the notes as to what it is, I was seeking help before I got ambushed.” Wraog wiped his mouth of any excess. “This is really good.”

It wasn’t your place, and you didn’t really care about his people. But you kept getting reeled in. “How bad is the illness?” You noted that he complimented your food. A very respectful orc.

“None of the witch doctors can help without the herb. It’s slowly spreading and getting worse. I hate seeing my people get quarantined.” Wraog looked down. “I hope I can heal soon so I can stop bothering me. You’ve done so much for me already.”

like most nagas, you couldn’t really express emotions well. “Well that sssucksss, let me see your list. Maybe I could be of sssome assssitance sssso you can leave ssssooner. Let me see your notessss.” You stuck out your hand patiently.

Wraog’s eyes lit up like a puppy, excited and cute. “Really? This means so much, I’ll make sure to never bother you again.” He dug his big hands into his pockets and pulled out a small black book. “It’s right here.” He flipped to the page and handed it to you.

You read through everything, your tails tip sticking around impatiently as you drank in the information. “I know what herb thisss isss, I don’t ussse it often unlessss I’m ssssick as well. A very good rememdy that helps. I have ssssome and know where to fetch ssssome more.” You glanced at him then looked away. “You can sssstay here, don’t make too much of a messss.”

“Isn’t it too dark by now? Shouldn’t you also rest after fighting?” Wraog cocked his head like a concerned dog. “Don’t overwhelm yourself.”

Your stomach fluttered but you clicked your tongue in annoyance as to not show your true feelings. “Then I’ll go out in the morning if that’ll ssssoothe you, I don’t want you messsing up your ssstitchessss like the big oaf you are.” You quickly served yourself and ate it delicately.

Wraog wasn’t use to silence, he was use to boasting and chatters filling up the air. He looked around your cave that was big enough for him and you. “Very homey. Suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow. Ah orcs, always the talkative ones. “Thank you.”

Wraog nervously chewed on his lip, he hated awkward silences. He could talk on forever. “Your scales are also very beautiful! Hard to believe you live alone with your beauty.” The word vomit came out and his green face exploded into a darker shade.

Your tail stopped rattling and your ears once again heated up. You coughed awkwardly, trying to make sense of the scene. “I, I choose to live alone. Male nagassss are too ignorant for my liking. No point of mating with sssomeone who I won’t enjoy ssspending time with. What about you? A mate?” You inquired, not because you wanted to pursue. It was just a curious thing seeing it was brought up.

“Ah I see, a beauty against the world. No wonder, I wouldn’t have expected you to be mateless but by choice makes more sense,” Wraog warmly smiled, “I don’t have a partner either. Haven’t found anyone specifically who’s peaked my interests.”

You decided to flirt a little, “I wouldn’t expect a handsome sssweet orc like you to be sssingle. I’m sure you have the ladiesss lining up.”

Wraog felt his heart beat a little faster. “Not normally or maybe Im oblivious to it.” He accidentally yawned, killing the mood.

“Well-“ You grabbed his empty bowl and cup, “I sssuppose it’s time for us to sleep. I gotta get up early to fetch your herbs. Rest well Wraog.” You coiled up in your comfy corner with pillows and blankets and fell asleep peacefully.

Wraog had a more difficulty falling asleep, he couldn’t help be marveled by you. A sweet beautiful naga out here by themselves? You were sweet and sour and it certainly peaked his interests. His eyes wandered all over your form till he himself fell asleep.

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The next morning, you stretched and cracked any stiff bones. You looked to see Wraog sleeping and smiled softly. You quietly slithered to him and looked at his face with deeper insight. You noticed how his look hair draped over him with delicacy, how he breathed heavily due to tusks being in the way, how sharp his tusks were, and how he just seemed at peace. Your hand swiftly caressed him before you giggled and left the cave by yourself with a basket.

You inhaled the sweet air and listened to the birds sing their song. You looked for the sweet purple and orange plant that could help save his village. You went by the river that held the most of the herb. You carefully picked them without cutting yourself on the prickly thorns at the bottom and laid it down in your basket. You repeated this action until your basket was full and made your own way home.

Wraog had woke up and sat up rather quickly when he saw you were gone. “They’ve gone out to get the herb, right.” He told himself. He tried to make himself busy as by making some breakfast, although he wasn’t sure what you liked or where most of your utensils were.

Still, Wraog tried his best. He carefully broke the eggs and beated the yolk and poured into the skillet. He added salt and pepper and left it to sit. He started on the small rations of the mysterious meat, he tried not to think about it. He cut it into pieces and mixed it with the eggs and folded the eggs with meat inside. Wraog was sure to add spices and although he was confident it tasted good, but it didn’t look appealing. Your food looked appealing and his looked like a mess.

He carefully scooped portions out in your bowl and his bowl. He poured water for both of your cups. Wraog decided to be cute and go outside and pick some bright (colored) flowers that matched your tail. He put in the middle of the table. “Damn, I’m stupid. I don’t know when they’re getting back.”

“I’m back?” You declared. You raised your eyebrow to the messy breakfast before you. “I see that you prepared food for the both of us, thank you.” You set your basket down and coiled up next to the table. “You worked really hard on this. I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do since you helped me so much.” Wraog’s face darkened a deep green as he felt his stomach flutter with butteries at your soft smile. “Those are enough for those of the sick, I should be thank you the most.”

“You can thank me again when I escort you out the forest. That’ll be the last thank you.”

“I don’t think I’ll need an escort. I can handle myself.” Although he secretly wants to spend more time with you.

“Do you even know how to get out of here?”

“Oh-“ Wraog felt even more embarrassed and probably looked like an idiot in front of you now. “No.”

“That’s why you need an escort you oaf.” Your words were not bitter, just playful. You started to eat and your eyes turned into slits at the taste. “This is amazing!”

“I tried my best, I’m glad you like it.” Wraog smiled with pride. “After all, you deserve the best.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you continued to eat.

____

After breakfast was finished, you put the plates into a corner where you would wash them later. You grabbed a sun hat and bag full of water so you wouldn’t dehydrate on your small journey. “Do you have the strength to carry the basket all the way home?” You asked the orc who was standing outside your cave now.

“Yes, I’m fully rested now and you’ve taken care of you quite well, and fortunately I heal fast thanks to your herbs.”

You pursed your lips. “Okay give me a couple of more minutes.” You remembered how he said it took him three days to get where he was before he was ambushed and packed him a different bag for his own supplies so he can be okay for the trip. You hated seeming soft so you exited your cave and gently threw the bag at his feet. “Your supplies so you don’t die on the way back, your people depend on you.”

“You’re too kind to me.” Wraog couldn’t help but give you smooth forehead a smooch. “I’m glad I stumbled up on even if it was caused by those damn mages.”

Your face blossomed with color and you looked down so he couldn’t see your slitted eyes. “Whatever, let’s go.”

You led the way the whole time, you rarely leave the forest. Only leaving when you need specific supplies, but you usually take short cuts and use your speed to your advantage. Orcs aren’t as fast as nagas so you slowed down your pace for Wraog.

“You know, when I’m not running from mages. The scenery is very beautiful.” Wraog commented, once again hating the silence.

“I suppose it is, I never really took the time to stop and smell the flowers. I usually go wherever I’m headed without slowing down.”

“Fast paced life huh?”

“I guess I’m just use to do everything by myself and just keeping myself busy since I live alone that my set routine stops me from doing new things.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Nagas are usually lonely creatures. Too territorial unless they have a mate or kids. So I guess you can say I’m use to it.”

“Well does it get boring?”

“I sleep away my boredom.” You paused. “I also read books and imagine myself as the character. It’s really nice.”

“Well, if you’d like, I can always stop by and hang out with you. I have a good sense of direction.”

“It took you three days to even get here, why would you do that just to see me?” You turned your head to look at him as you kept on slithering your way through.

Wraog shyly looked up at the sky, “You’ve really peaked my interest, and I think you’re really cute and interesting and kind. I wouldn’t mind traveling to see you.”

You turned your head back as your face flushed, “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I would like that. You’re kind too and cute as well.” You muttered the cute part although he heard you pretty clear.

As you guys chartered more, soon enough the clearing. The clearing showed the path of where Wraog was walking.

“Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

“Not goodbye (Y/N), see you later.”

“Oh right! See you later.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Wraog bent down a little bit to peck your cheek. “Thank you once again for everything, maybe one day we could be more.”

Your eyes turned into slits once again and your ears burned. You closed your eyes and hugged him, taking in his scent so you could remember it until he came back. “Thank you for giving me a chance. See you soon.” You let go although it took him a little longer to let go of you.

Wraog waved as he started walking, and you watched him till he was nothing but a speck.

#orc #monsterlover #monster boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #monster x reader #exophilia

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